Watchmen
by DuckiePray
Summary: Following "Refuge", the resurgence of an insidious enemy throws the turtles' lives into chaos. Will they fight their way back from physical and mental injuries fast enough to avert disaster from overtaking all they hold dear? Two words: brace yourself.
1. Recap

***Welcome to the beginning of another insane journey. This is one of those fics that felt so daunting from the outset, that I didn't know how it was going to come out. One chapter at a time, one day at a time...pieces slowly came together. Of all the stories I've written, I have to admit that this one is probably the darkest, and the most difficult to write in some places. I probably shed more tears writing these chapters than any other story, and that's saying a lot. The good news is that no night can last forever...and I believe in happy endings. I swear by them. ;)**

**Many, many thanks to my beloved Betas, Mikell and Andrea...I've said it before, but it bears repeating: you rock my world, and help me become a better writer. Much love to facebook friends who followed me out of curiousity...and got a few glimpses of the future along the way. **

**If you read Refuge through to the end, this chapter probably won't have any interest for you. I wanted to include a recap to help readers know where we are, for those who aren't familiar with my storyline. This is all going to be coming at you pretty fast, but stick with me! I have a number of original characters, but if you give me the chance, I'll catch you up. Thanks for reading and reviewing. As any of my friends can tell you, I've been known to post faster when the feedback is flowing. Yep. I can be bought.**

**You're getting two chapters at once tonight...because there are some people who've been waiting for the follow-up to a big cliffhanger, and I'm not about to disappoint them. I own nothing related to the TMNT, but I'm grateful to have discovered their world, and gotten to know them so much better through writing. Now on with the show already...**

* * *

><p>Brandon slammed the door of the apartment that he and Greg shared much more forcefully than necessary. He had burned the entire way home, but the fire didn't feel like it was close to going out yet.<p>

_Why would Donny do things this way? It doesn't even make sense! If he'd had the decency to talk to me about it, maybe it wouldn't irk me so much that he was screwing around where he didn't belong._

He paced the length of the apartment, trying to vent off the fury that seemed to be coming in waves. Every time one set died down, another cluster of irritation was set up in its place. Brandon gazed at the plaster, seriously considering putting his fist through it the way he'd seen Raphael do a number of times.

_No, it doesn't work if you have to _think_ about it, and I'd just have to fix it anyway, _he thought ironically, and settled for resting his forehead against the cool wall. _Maybe I should get out of here, call it a night and head for the airport. Whether that plane comes in one hour or ten, they have to get something else scheduled, and I don't feel like ranting alone in this apartment._

The lone bag was ready to go inside his room and there was nothing left tying him to the apartment. Brandon's intention had been to leave, but instead, he found himself hesitating. The initial anger was melting into sorrow, a powerful sadness he hadn't _allowed_ himself to feel for years. He sank onto the end of his bed, contemplating the feelings that were assailing him.

_My God…this isn't even about Donny. It doesn't have anything to do with him. It goes back to my dad, all the anger, all of the hurt. It's because of _him_. _Brandon sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes tiredly. _I missed something here. Looking for my dad completely unprovoked…that doesn't even _sound_ like something Don would do. There has to be some other reason. Why couldn't I see it back there?_

_I can't leave things off this way with Donny, _he told himself finally. Brandon sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. _I've got to call him._ He reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone, and was confused when he didn't find it. _Oh shoot…what did I do with it?_

He heaved a tremendous sigh as he checked his other pocket, then reached for the light jacket he'd been wearing earlier that evening, which was now on top of the suitcase. Brandon found his keys inside, but when he'd searched through the pockets thoroughly, he still couldn't find any sign of the cell phone.

As he stood facing the suitcase and considering the mystery, Brandon was surprised to be suddenly captured by strong arms from behind. A cry began to erupt right before an iron hand clapped over his mouth. When the initial shock had passed, his first thought was to roll his eyes and curse Raphael's name for kidnapping him a second time.

When he looked down, however, he recognized that the hand covering his mouth was _human_. The realization spurred panic back to the surface, and Brandon immediately began fighting the grasp of the men who were holding him down. He may as well have been beating the air.

Brandon jerked his head around to try and break the grip of the hand muffling him, to make any sound that someone else could hear. The tip of two fingers levered against a pressure point on his neck, temporarily breaking off the struggle he was trying to mount. The hand over his mouth was exerting so much strength, it was cutting off his air supply, and all he could manage were shallow breaths through his nose that felt nowhere near adequate.

He stared dumbfounded at the familiar form of the beastly man before him, now convinced that he _had_ to be dreaming. One of the individuals behind him spoke in Japanese again, his tone questioning. Daichi nodded at Brandon with a smug smile, and returned with what sounded like an affirmation.

The Asian man made disturbing eye contact with him, gloating, spiteful. Daichi pronounced two more short words, and Brandon had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He saw the man's fist as it shot toward him, but it became a blur as it collided with his chin like a bulldozer, and he knew nothing more.

* * *

><p>Raphael cast an unhappy glance at his purple-masked brother, who was still gripping his phone.<p>

"It was worth a shot I guess," Don said hoarsely. "I really thought he might pick up. I mean, he's leaving the country. We don't even know when he and Greg will be coming back. I messed this up so badly."

"You shouldn't have kept it from him, Genius," Raphael acknowledged. "But just the same, we all know you weren't trying to hurt anybody. Even Bran knows that. Give him a chance to chill out, and everything will be okay. You know how Brandon is. He gets mad, he blows up, and he gets over it.

Donatello nodded regretfully. "I sure put a damper on things tonight."

"Don, it's _gonna_ be all right," Raph insisted. "Bran's like a brother to all of us; he's not gonna up and quit the family over this. If he doesn't answer the phone, then he doesn't answer it. Let him be, and when he's ready he'll come to you."

"I know I was wrong," Don replied. "I'll tell him that as many times as he needs to hear it, but he's got to give me the chance."

Leonardo withdrew his phone. "I'll try him again, Don. The worst thing that can happen is that he won't answer."

Raphael got up to stretch his legs from the recliner as Leo dialed the number. As the red-masked turtle flexed his calves, he suddenly picked up on a quiet sound coming from behind him. His brow furrowed as he turned to face the chair, bending down in search of the noise. As Leonardo hung up the phone and the sound ceased, something instantly occurred to him.

"Call it again, Leo."

Raphael felt down inside the chair as Leonardo hit the speed dial once more, and his fingers closed around the device. He came up triumphantly with Brandon's cell phone. He looked at his watch, and saw that it was close to 11pm. "We might be able to catch him, Leo. With the way his plane was delayed, he's probably still at the apartment."

Leonardo nodded. "Someone should go, I agree. We probably don't need to make it a family affair though."

* * *

><p>Daichi was more than a little pleased with himself. He had tracked down the cursed American agent under his own initiative, without Yukiko's knowledge or approval. The Asian woman was still 7600 miles away, and unable to control him during the tedious task she'd given him to carry out on American soil.<p>

_Rounding up the stinking leftovers from our last trip to the States, those _stupid_ enough to allow themselves to be caught by the police. I know she only wanted me to be out of the way before the plan for Takashi is implemented. Yukiko has always been power hungry. She cannot bear to share authority with anyone else. I am going to prove to Takashi-sama that I am worthy of his respect, once and for all._

He'd wanted to strangle Brandon with his bare hands, but he resigned himself to taking the man alive. _He is no good to me dead, _he reasoned_. It would be satisfying, no doubt, but his informational value is too great to kill him._

He was still lingering on the roof of the building even now, waiting on the clean-up crew that was sweeping the apartment. Daichi also wanted to keep an eye out for anyone who could possibly be coming.

Daichi's phone buzzed on his side, drawing him out of thought. "_Taidan_," he answered smoothly.

"_Daichi-san, forgive the interruption, but I believe we have a visitor heading our direction."_

Daichi glanced at the building across from him, where he knew Jiro was watching from a higher vantage point. "_Do you see signs of the police already, Jiro? I have not heard a thing from here."_

"_No, Daichi-san, not police. I am speaking of _another_ type of visitor, the kind who uses the city heights in the same manner that we do."_

A gasp caught in Daichi's chest. "_Shitenno? Are you certain_?"

"_I have never seen another creature move the way that they do. I am quite sure it is one of the turtles_."

"_Do you believe there is only the one? You cannot see the others?"_

"_I have not yet– I cannot even see _him_ very well, except for the glasses that are tracking his movement. Whoever it is, he is coming this way quickly_."

"_Keep an eye on him, do _not_ lose him_," Daichi barked, a thrill coursing through his veins. "_Hold your position, and I will tell you when to move_."

Daichi led the way over the side of the building, dropping onto the fire escape to get back to the apartment, where they could lay in wait for the demon. He fingered his taser with anticipation, smiling grimly.

_This time, it will be different. This time I will get the drop on him, and _prove_ to Takashi-sama my usefulness. Tonight will change everything._


	2. Ambush

***And now the continuation some of you have been waiting for. Why am I still talking? I have no idea. Just read. ;) **

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><p>Nerves rocketed through Donatello's mind as he ran, consuming the turtle to the point that he became almost numb to the fact that he was high above the city streets, leaping from one building to the next. The journey was easy to take for granted in any case, because the apartment that Greg and Brandon shared was a frequent stopover when the turtles were on the surface.<p>

Donny was anxious about facing Brandon so soon after offending the man, but he also knew that he wouldn't be able to rest well until he'd made things right with his friend. _He's more likely to talk to me if I come in person. Bran leaving his phone behind was the kick in the shell that I needed to force me to do this._

Upon another landing the purple-masked turtle shifted his backpack, which he'd only carried with him tonight for the purpose of housing his scanner. Donatello had checked Brandon's coordinates through the beacon in his watch before he left the Den, but taking the scanner had guaranteed his ability to track down the man if he was on the move.

_I knew it was wrong to search for his father without telling Bran or Karina from the start, _he silently fumed. _Why'd I let myself get talked into this? No one was supposed to get hurt. Kat's only trying to be a good big sister, but _talking _to Brandon and Karina would have been a lot more effective than setting me to work behind the scenes. It's my own fault that all of this happened though. I should have gone with my gut._

Donatello slid across a rooftop awning, barely skimming the surface of the material with his knees, before swinging around the corner of the building to land on the fire escape. He took a couple of seconds to breathe and stared at the familiar structure across from him.

_It'll be okay, _he reassured himself. _Brandon will come around to forgiving me. The guys are right; he just needs time to burn. If Brandon doesn't want to talk to me tonight, I won't force myself on him. I'll just leave his phone, and get out of the way._

Donatello climbed up on the railing, tensing the muscles in his legs in preparation to make the leap to the other fire escape across from him. He made his way down a couple more floors, and paused again on the balcony that was attached to Brandon and Greg's apartment, before willing himself to knock on the door.

The turtle waited close to two minutes for a response, and knocked again. When Brandon didn't appear, he reached for his key with a soft sigh. _There's nothing like barging in on the guy who just stormed out on you. I don't have much choice. I won't get another chance to reunite him with his phone before he leaves for Jamaica._

Donatello let himself into the apartment, which was presently illuminated by a single light in the living room. "Brandon?" he ventured. "Where are you?"

The last thing he wanted to do was startle the man. He withdrew Brandon's phone from his belt, fully prepared to extend the device in explanation as to why he'd come. The apartment felt quiet. Aside from the light being on, there was nothing to signal that anyone was there. A strange chill coursed through his body as he looked around the room, along with a confusing sense of foreboding.

Donatello shook off the sensation as he circled around the living room to peer into the darkened kitchen, then headed for the hallway that led back to the bedrooms. He immediately noticed the light coming from underneath Brandon's door and took a sharp breath.

He cleared his throat nervously as he knocked on the door. "Bran? It's Donny. Could you maybe open the door?" Donatello shifted uncomfortably at the lack of an answer. "Or not, that's fine," he continued. "I, uh…I brought your phone. You left it underground. I'm really sorry about everything, Brandon. I hope we can work this out when you get back. In the meantime, I'm still here. Don't hate me, all right?"

The turtle's shoulders slumped when he heard nothing from the other side, but he hadn't truly expected differently. Donatello's eyes were averted as he turned away from the room, so that he saw two sets of _feet _before his head jerked up to take in the rest of the figures. A gasp automatically leaped to the surface as he fell back a step in surprise.

The first thought to run through his mind was simply confusion and fear over being seen by strangers, but the moment the hall light clicked on, disbelief struck a strong note in his heart. The men weren't the slightest bit startled by his appearance. Their Japanese ethnicity and smug expressions made Donatello feel like he was having an out of body experience.

_Akiudo? No, it's not possible!_

Donatello held his ground unflinchingly, though he couldn't control the way his breathing quickened. The warriors were obviously trying to hem him into the narrow hallway, where there was nowhere to go except the two bedrooms. He had every intention of making good on an attempt to get past them, but first his fingers slipped toward the watch on his left wrist so he could set off his emergency beacon.

A large hand wrapped around his right wrist from _behind _before Donatello could blink, wrenching his arm painfully. Don cursed himself for allowing the man to sneak up on him, biting back a cry as the stranger landed a powerful blow to his other arm, which crushed his watch and probably cracked his wrist bone along with it. Brandon's cell phone went flying from the clenched fist with which he'd been gripping it.

"_Not tonight, demon_," a low voice said triumphantly in his ear.

Donny jerked his head around and laid shocked eyes on none other but _Daichi_. The purple-masked turtle felt the contact point of metal barbs on the back of his neck, and instantly broke away from the large man before Daichi could activate the taser. Even as he lunged forward, Donatello knew his chances for escape were small. They'd neatly cornered him in the hallway, where there was little space for him to resist.

_But how could they possibly get into position that fast? I haven't even been here that long! Daichi would have had to beat me down the hall. I know they weren't following me, so how—_

In a horrifying moment, he understood that the warriors must have been _inside_ the apartment before he ever got there. The frightening realization made him so concerned for Brandon that his heart nearly stopped beating. The anxiety gave him new energy with which to fight back, and Donatello threw all his strength into an escape attempt.

A powerful thrust from his knee took down the one to the right in front of him, but two more men crowded in behind where the warrior had been standing. Donatello tried to reach for his own phone that was still on his belt, at the same time as he lashed out his foot at the closest man to him.

The warrior ducked his blow, and a surge of men converged on the turtle. Among the mass of arms grasping at him, Donatello felt someone searching his belt, and snapping up his cell phone. Another warrior relieved him of his backpack, yanking it from his shoulders as Don struggled uselessly.

As of yet, none of them had tried to hurt Donatello, but only to contain him. He wasn't going to return the favor. As he was wrestled to the floor, Donny landed another blind kick toward one of his assailants. The sight of Daichi rubbing his jaw made the turtle smirk slightly, even as he was dragged upright again by four individuals, who were each controlling one his limbs.

"_Where's Brandon_?" Donny angrily demanded of Daichi. "_What have you done with him_?"

"_Do not be concerned for your friend, demon. You will be reunited with him soon_."

"_You don't _need_ him now that you have me!_" Donatello insisted.

"_You are correct, demon. I will get to _enjoy_ killing him_."

Panic made Donatello's mind seize up entirely as he was carried forcefully into the living room. He caught sight of restraints in Daichi's hands, and cold awareness cut through the fear he was experiencing for his friend.

_I can't let them take me! If they get me out of here__, Brandon is a dead man!_

Two fingers alighted across his neck as Donatello renewed his struggling, and he could tell that one of the underlings was trying to immobilize him with the use of a pressure point.

_Idiot, he's way off. _Donatello almost laughed as the touch didn't produce the intense pain that the warrior had been attempting to deliver. _But if I can get them to relax their guards a little…_

The purple-masked turtle growled and flopped limply in the arms of his captors, praying he was sending the correct message that he was weakening.

_"Hurry up!" _Daichi ordered the men_. "I want to get him out of here while we have the opportunity!"_

_I bet he thinks reinforcements are coming, _Donatello recognized bitterly. _I wish it was true. How many times have we said it to each other? We shouldn't go off alone, yet we still do it. Leo _wanted_ to come with me, but no, I had to face Brandon on my own. Stupid!_

The four men handling his arms and legs were starting to put him down again.

"_On his front_," Daichi instructed. "_This one is a gifted fugitive, and he is not getting away from us this time_."

_Nice to know he remembers me, _Don thought morosely.

He brightened as the man on his left inexplicably let go of his leg while they were turning him over. Even as Donatello retracted his knee, he felt the warrior's fingers glide across his skin to recapture him. The man wasn't anywhere near as fast as the turtle. Don snapped his leg out as hard as he could, striking both men positioned near his feet before they could even speak.

A warrior shouted, his voice resounding loudly in Donny's ears as he laid another man flat with his flailing legs. Then he drove one of his feet into the shin of the man gripping his right arm, and spun violently to break the grasp of the last man trying to keep him nailed down.

Before Donatello could take a single stride, a looming shadow overtook him. Daichi's shoulder rammed into his plastron, and sent the turtle crashing into a side table. The wood collapsed underneath him as the turtle heaved for air. Despite the fact that he was fighting for oxygen, Don scrambled to rise as Daichi held him down in the splintered remains of the furniture.

The turtle saw the taser coming, and a thought lit through his mind like lightning. _I've got enough experience with being shocked to know that my shell absorbs par—_

That was as far as Donatello got before Daichi activated the taser against his shoulder. He couldn't even think straight through the sharp pain that caused every muscle in his body to contract. Don trembled uncontrollably, and a daze lingered on his consciousness even as Daichi lifted the taser.

Rational thought fought its way to the surface. _I can take a worse shock than he realizes. If I can just fake—_

Daichi depressed the taser against him a second time and Donatello allowed his eyes to roll back as pain lanced across his nerves. When the man removed the barbs, Donatello's body convulsed for a few seconds longer. His limbs tingled with temporary paralysis, but he was in firm control of his own mind.

_Fake it_.

The turtle feigned being unconscious, allowing his head to slump backwards. Daichi's open-handed slap almost elicited a response from Donatello, but he controlled it through an act of sheer willpower. Don was surprised by how quickly Daichi yanked him off the floor and threw him over his shoulder.

"_Too much noise!_ _Move _now_!_" Daichi ordered.

"_Daichi-san, two of ours are out cold!_" another voice exclaimed.

"_Then pick them up, fool, and move your feet! We cannot afford to leave evidence behind!_"

_He's more concerned with someone else tracing him than he is about the men, _Donatello thought grimly. _Why should that surprise me?_

Donatello wanted to cringe as Daichi carried him up the fire escape, and groaned inwardly when the man twisted his injured wrist. He could feel the tension in Daichi's body just by the way he was handling him.

"_Take them below_," Daichi told someone else. "_You will only slow us down if you try to carry the injured along with us_."

"_But what are we supposed to _do_ with them_?" one whined.

"_I don't care. Just keep them out of the way until they wake up, and you can find transport back to our district with the clean-up crew_."

"_But that means we will be stuck_—"

Donatello could only imagine the menacing look Daichi had probably given the man to shut him up.

"_Yes, Daichi-san_," the same man finished.

The purple-masked turtle was anxiously waiting for feeling to return to his muscles, hopefully _before _Daichi stopped to restrain him. It was a nerve-wracking experience to be at the human's mercy as he jumped from one roof to the next. Donatello's stomach lurched with each weightless sensation, while he wondered where Daichi was taking him, and whether they'd already harmed Brandon.

_If I hadn't ticked Bran off, none of this would have happened, _he thought fleetingly. _In that case, I'm glad I was the one who came and not-_

He broke off abruptly as Daichi landed with a thump, and this time stopped in his tracks. Donatello had a moment to mentally prepare himself before the man flung him facedown on the gritty surface. The turtle bit his tongue to prevent himself from crying out upon the impact.

"_Watch him_," he heard Daichi say. "_Good evening, Yukiko-san_."

The greeting made Don's brown eyes shoot open in disbelief, but all he saw was the rooftop directly under him.

"_All is well, I assure you,"_ Daichi said soothingly. "_Our number continues to grow. It has taken some research on the streets, but…no, we're closer to two dozen now_."

When Donatello didn't hear the woman responding, he realized that Daichi had to be talking on the phone.

"_I can contain them for a few more weeks, Yukiko-san, it is not as if we are running wild. Of course we are staying out of sight! Do you really think I am so stupid?...Yes, call me. I want to know the status of Takashi-sama's appeal. As you wish, Yukiko-san. Goodbye_."

The urge to throw up was so strong that Donatello barely contained it. _Yukiko, _alive_? How the shell is that possible? It sounds as if they're regrouping, but what is Daichi doing on American soil? Surely he didn't come all the way back here to pick up a few measly men he could have easily replaced in Okinawa!_

Donatello's beleaguered muscles _still _felt tight, but he found that he was capable of flexing them. _I have to try. Even if I fail, it's better than doing nothing._

"_You did not tell Yukiko-san about the Shitenno," _one of the others observed.

"_Now why would I do that? So she could try to steal the credit_?" Daichi snorted. "We _are going to be the ones to reap the reward for catching this one when Takashi-sama comes_."

_What? _Donatello was only feeling more confused._ But Takashi is behind bars! Why on earth do they have so much confidence in this appeal? They must have something else plan—_

He didn't bother finishing as he felt someone drawing his wrists together, and realized that this was probably his last chance to get away. The nerves of his left wrist screamed at Donatello as he tore his arms out of the unprepared man's grasp.

A string of Japanese curses pursued Donatello as he rolled to the right, and leaped to his feet with more difficulty than he'd hoped to have. His legs felt weak, and Don knew that he was in no condition to beat a hasty retreat. The likelihood of landing even one jump to another building felt slim.

Donatello jerked his bo from its holster and warily faced off with Daichi and two other men, as he also rapidly scanned his surroundings.

"_You miserable demon, I am going to make you _beg_ for death!_" Daichi proclaimed fiercely.

Donny didn't acknowledge him. Out of the corner of his eye, he'd noticed an insulated cable line. He knew from years of practice that he wouldn't get shocked by the wire unless he gave the electricity a chance to complete the circuit by coming into contact with another solid surface.

There wasn't time to think it over. Turning rapidly, he lunged off the roof toward the wire, and hooked his bo over his head to give him traction on the line. Donatello had already traveled several feet when he felt the cable jerk under the influence of too much weight behind him, and it was followed by a terrible _snap_.

In an instant he knew that Daichi had cluelessly followed him, ignoring the need to distribute his weight properly on the cable line. Fear barely had time to register as the sheared end of the wire hurled both of them toward the building that was directly in its path.

Donatello had seconds to realize that the glass was coming, and buried his head to protect himself. Daichi's weight and momentum combined with his, shattering the large pane with a tremendous explosion. The turtle closed his eyes to protect them from the shower of glass, unable to fight the force of gravity that carried him further across the room. Don never saw the object in the path of his collision.


	3. Catching Up

Takumi stood transfixed on the edge of the rooftop, attempting to digest what had just happened right before his shocked eyes. Several seconds passed before he even realized that Shinji was beside him.

"_Do you think_…" Shinji's voice trembled.

Takumi shifted nervously from one foot to the other. "_We need to find a way over to that building_."

"_But…someone could have heard. Perhaps we should go while we have the chance_."

Takumi shook his head sharply at his companion. "_We cannot abandon Daichi-san, Shinji. We have sworn to follow his lead. We _must_ go after him_."

Shinji grunted a curse under his breath. "_All right, but I am not going back to that American jail for anyone_."

The shadowy figures had to circle two other rooftops to reach the darkened apartment building into which Daichi and the Shitenno had crashed. Takumi had a strong feeling that the structure wasn't inhabited, based on the fact that he couldn't see a single source of light.

_But that does not mean that no one nearby heard the commotion. I doubt that we have much time to escape without being seen._

Takumi took the lead scaling down the roof to an overlook, and carefully leaped from one balcony to another. His heart was racing by the time he reached the apartment where the wall had been shattered. Tempered glass crunched under his feet as Takumi hovered at the opening, watching for the other warrior. Shinji was further behind him, and the man looked like he didn't want to take another step.

"_Shinji, come_," Takumi urged him.

"_I don't know, Takumi. That demon is dangerous! You and I are not equipped to deal with it alone_."

"_You saw what just happened to them!_" Takumi was losing patience fast. "_The thing is not _invincible."

"_Nor is Daichi-san_," Shinji said tightly. "_Takumi, look!_"

Takumi turned toward the apartment, following Shinji's gaze to see Daichi's still form lying motionless on the hardwood, adjacent to a large crate. He held his breath as he ventured inside the building, and crouched near the floor to check Daichi's pulse.

"_He is alive!_" Takumi announced. "_Alive, but injured_."

Shinji took a few reluctant steps to join him. "_What of the demon? I cannot see it_."

Takumi rose to his feet slowly, fear surging through his veins. The prospect of facing the enraged demon wasn't something to which he looked forward, but now that they were here, they had little choice. He drew a katana from his side, berating himself as he crept further into the room.

_I will be no match for the creature by myself, not unless it is injured like Daichi-san. I can only hope as much._

A brief circuit of the living room revealed nothing, and Takumi found himself wondering if the demon had already fled the scene. _Or maybe it waited for us. Perhaps it's preparing to pounce, even as we linger._

Takumi shook off a tremor and forced himself to put one leg in front of the other. He was beginning to wish that he'd never been part of the retrieval team to begin with.

_But chasing down Shitenno was not in the job description, _he thought inwardly. _Daichi-san did not expect such an opportunity, or he would have come more prepared. This does not seem like a fortunate turn from where I am standing. I hope that Daichi-san was not injured too badly. He is all that remains of our connection to Okinawa and what is left of the Akiudo._

The living room led straight into an open kitchen area that faced the same large pane of glass that had been broken. His eyes traveled across the unfinished space, and were drawn to a small island that marked the separation between the rooms.

In the dim light that penetrated the shadows from outdoors, Takumi realized there was a dark stain on the stone surface of the counter. He reached to touch the discoloration curiously, and realized that the substance was still wet.

_Blood, no doubt. It was here – it had to be. The question is, did it _remain_ behind?_

Takumi gripped the hilt of his blade more tightly as he peered around the island, half expecting the thing to appear out of nowhere to attack him. He only hoped that death at the hands of the Shitenno would come quickly.

Takumi gasped as he located the creature, sprawled on his side upon the kitchen floor, in between the island and the stove. He stared at the demon dully for a few moments, wanting to do nothing more than run away before the thing miraculously recovered.

"_Takumi, what are you doing_?" Shinji's voice startled him out of his daze.

"_I found it!_" he answered.

"_Does it live_?"

Takumi was nervous to find out. He nudged the prone figure lightly with his foot. When the demon didn't respond, he kicked the creature's leg harder. He waited, but when nothing happened, Takumi bent over the demon, his breath hitching from fear.

He could hear the Shitenno breathing, and took silent stock of the nature of the creature's injuries. The man stretched a hand toward the demon's head, raising its chin to get a better look at it.

The sight of the blood trailing from the right side of its head confirmed that the creature wasn't indestructible. Takumi couldn't see very much in the low lighting, but he suspected that the demon had suffered a hard blow from the island.

_This does not look good. Daichi-san wanted the creature in one piece, but then he goes and does something like that? How could he have assumed that the cable would support his weight? I have told the others that Daichi-san has some shrewdness, but now I feel like I need to take back my argument._

"Takumi!" Shinji's voice cut in once more. "_Does it live, or not_?"

Takumi straightened upright. "_It lives, Shinji. It is injured too, but I cannot say how badly_."

"_What are you waiting for? Kill that thing before it kills _us_!_"

Takumi hesitated with his katana, as he considered the action of cutting the creature's throat. His nerves screamed at him to do as his companion had instructed, but still he didn't move.

"_I dare not, Shinji_," he finally said. "_Takashi-sama believes that these demons are possessed by the Shitenno, the Guardian spirits of the Earth. What is going to become of that spirit should I murder his host_? _We don't even know if the creatures _can_ be killed_."

"_If it can be injured, surely it can be killed! Stop being superstitious and finish this!_"

"_Come do it yourself then, if you want it done so badly!_" Takumi challenged.

The other man folded his arms angrily, but Takumi noted that he had not moved.

"_You are no less afraid of this thing than I am_," Takumi proclaimed boldly. _There, I said it. Neither of us wants to be anywhere near this demon without Daichi-san to back us up._

_"What do you suggest we _do_?" _Shinji demanded.

"_I don't know. Daichi-san would wish for us to capture it_—" Takumi's statement was cut short by a blaring alarm, which sounded as if it had come from the very next room.

He backpedaled out of the kitchen into the living room with his sword raised defensively, nearly running straight into Shinji.

"_What did you do_?" Shinji's voice instantly went higher.

"_I did nothing! I was only standing there!_" Takumi insisted.

The siren faded for a few moments, and he swore he could hear a muffled voice speaking. Takumi backed nearer to the shattered wall. "_We must go, now. They know;, someone has to know we are here_."

He looked down at Daichi, who had yet to stir. "_Shinji, help me with Daichi-san! Neither one of us can carry him far alone_."

"_What about the _demon_, Takumi_?"

"_We cannot concern ourselves with both of them, Shinji! It is one or the other!_"

His companion took a shaky breath. "_We could not control it. It is too violent_—"

"_We dare not linger_!" Takumi interrupted. "_We must flee while there is time. Help me, Shinji_!"

The two men lifted Daichi's large form between them, crunching hastily over tempered glass as they hurried outside. Takumi felt a pang of guilt for leaving his leader's prize behind, but he felt a sense of relief too.

He wasn't interested in trying to leap rooftops with the heavy burden in between him and Shinji, so he motioned for the other man to descend. They worked their way down toward the street in silence, but Takumi's mind was reeling.

_The demons are too dangerous to take captive. What good has capturing any of them ever done for the Akiudo? We were defeated in their territory, and the gang was defeated once again in Okinawa. Why would Daichi-san expect this time to be any different? All are cursed who touch the Shitenno. It seems Daichi has learned nothing whatsoever from the previous encounters. Takashi-sama's obsession with the demons has nearly driven Daichi-san mad in his quest to catch one._

Takumi had been there the day that Yukiko had proudly returned to their American headquarters with the orange-masked demon, and he'd had his doubts over Takashi's grandiose theories over the strange creatures. He'd been skeptical to see the demons as anything other than animals, until he caught one of them deactivating the detonator that had been set to destroy the Akiudo's compound along with all evidence of their presence.

_I knew then that they were more intelligent than I had assumed. The demon did not kill me that day, and I did not kill it tonight. Perhaps the Heavenly Kings will look favorably on me after all._

The sound of sirens in the distance sent chills down Takumi's spine. "_Hurry, Shinji!_"

They cut through the shadows around the side alley of the building, stopping on the edge of the next street. There were still cars driving by despite the late hour, and Takumi was loathe to allow anyone to see them carrying an injured Daichi. Light rain dotted Takumi's forehead as they considered their next move.

"_We cannot stay here_," Shinji muttered.

"_We cannot risk being seen either_," Takumi returned. "_We must do our best to hide Daichi-san, at all costs. We had better call for a ride._"

"_I cannot hear the sirens as well_," Shinji noted.

"_That is true, but we know an alarm was activated upstairs. Even one patrolman seeing us could prove disastrous_," Takumi reminded him.

Shinji examined the building that bordered the other side of the alleyway, and disappeared down a couple of steps that led to another entrance. He reappeared a moment later, pulling himself over the railing.

"_We could get into this building, Takumi. There is nothing more than a padlock keeping us from the basement_. _You could easily pick it without being forced to destroy it_."

His gift of breaking and entering quietly had been the reason Takumi had been asked to join the retrieval team to begin with. He left Daichi leaning against the apartment building on the ground, and hurried down the small stairwell to see the situation for himself. He considered the basement door to the attached business, and shook his head.

"_We could set off another alarm, Shinji. I think we need to try—"_

Takumi's phone buzzed, and he didn't bother finishing what he was going to say.

"_Where _are_ you_?" Ryozo demanded on the other end. "_Daichi-san gave us explicit directions, and now we cannot raise him_—"

"_Things changed_," Takumi snapped. "_We need to be picked up at another location. I am sending you the coordinates through my phone. You must hurry – Daichi-san is hurt, and we are in danger of discovery_."

Takumi hung up the phone, and found Shinji staring in another direction.

"_I think he moved, Takumi_!"

Takumi strode up the steps in time to see Daichi raise his head. The stubborn ox of a man appeared determined to get up immediately, and Takumi rushed to his aid.

"_Easy, Daichi-san, you are hurt!_"

"_I can get up_," he growled in response. "_What happened_? _Where are we_?"

"_We are trying to escape_," Takumi replied. "_There was an alarm after you came through the window of that building. The authorities will be coming!_"

Daichi took another moment to breathe deeply, before standing on his own. Aside from several small gashes from the tempered glass and an obvious bump on his head, it didn't appear that his movement was greatly hindered. Taking a step proved more problematic. Daichi swayed dangerously.

"_You are going to have to help me_," he told the others. "_What of the demon_?"

"_He got away_," Takumi lied quickly, giving Shinji an imperceptible nod. "_By the time we reached you, the demon was gone_."

Daichi's cry of indignation was too loud for Takumi's comfort level.

_I am becoming less fond of this man by the second._

"_How could you let him get away? He must have been injured too. And why is it raining? All the reports said the bad weather was supposed to stay to our North_." Daichi fumed.

_I suppose he wants to blame us for the weather too_, Takumi thought bitterly. "_We had to find another way over to the building, Daichi-san, there was not direct access_…"

"_Excuses. We had the demon, I was so close!_"

At Shinji's nervous look, Takumi nodded again. "_We need to move, Daichi-san_."

"_We must go before Takashi-sama learns of my failure_," Daichi slurred.

"_Takashi-sama does not know of the demon_," Takumi reminded the dazed man. "_We may have lost the Shitenno, but we still have Brandon James_."

A wicked smile appeared on Daichi's face. "_We do_," he said with satisfaction. "_The plan can still proceed. All is not lost_."

Takumi shook his head as they supported Daichi out of the alley. The man could almost stand alone, but appeared drunk when he tried to walk.

"_Keep your head down, Daichi-san_," Takumi told him. _With any luck, no one will have reason to suspect he is anything but intoxicated, _he added inwardly.

"_The others are coming to get us,"_ he informed Daichi.

"_They should be here already; I should not have to wait for them_."

"_No, Daichi-san_," Takumi said, more patiently than he really felt. _I don't believe I agreed to follow this buffoon of a man. Yukiko-san and Takashi-sama cannot come soon enough.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>*HA! You thought you knew where I was going with Donny, didn't you? Even if you have past experience with the Akiudo, it's not going to help you this time. Though, all things considered...Donatello might have been better off if those idiots <em>had<em> taken him. I realize that makes no sense now, but it will.**


	4. Missing

_Drowning; he was watching his brother drown, and for some reason, he was unable to stop it. He saw the older turtle's colored bandana break the surface, and he couldn't understand why his brother wouldn't tread water, or try to escape from the death trap that was dragging him under. He also didn't understand why his _own_ legs weren't working properly, and he'd been rendered powerless to assist him._

I'm right here – he can't die with me watching this close by. I have to do something!

_No number of mental commands could convince his cement-hard limbs to move. He'd been struggling so badly with his progress, he didn't notice the point at which his brother slipped beneath the lake again. When he looked at the water, he saw no sign of the other turtle, only a calm surface that granted no trace of a fight for survival._

Donny, _no_! Donny!

Fingers were gliding across his shoulder, their gentle pressure summoning him to wake up.

"Donny!" The orange-masked turtle cried once more out of reflex.

Rebecca ducked her head close to his. "Shh, Mikey," she soothed. "It's all right. You were dreaming."

Mike was surprised to discover how hard he was breathing. "Yeah," he agreed uncertainly. "A dream. Shell, I'm sorry, Beck. Is Nate still asleep?"

The curly-haired woman rose on her side of the bed to see into the bassinet where the two-month-old turtle was sleeping. "He's fine, Mike. He slept through it."

Michelangelo sighed in relief as he propped up on his elbow to face his wife. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I don't know _where_ that came from, Becky."

She brushed her hand across his cheek in a calming gesture. "Mike, it's okay. I think it's to be expected with all the drama you four face. Do you need something to help you sleep?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm sure I'll be fine. I've got you – what else do I need?" Mike gave her a toothy grin in the glow of the faint night light.

He held out an arm to draw her in, and Rebecca snuggled into the crook of his elbow. "Let's try to get some sleep before Nate wants to eat again. Hopefully the next time you wake up to yelling, it'll be coming from the baby and not me," Mike said wryly.

One of her arms rested against his plastron as Mike evened out his breathing and tried to go back to sleep. He closed his eyes, but he kept seeing the same picture of Donatello disappearing beneath the surface of an otherwise sparkling lake.

The uneasy sensation persisted in his spirit, to the point that he realized he wasn't going to be able to relax. For twenty minutes Mike had tried to assure himself that it was nothing but his imagination, and had listened to the sounds of Rebecca and Nathaniel sleeping. The foreboding feeling had only grown in that span of time, now hovering over him like a low-hanging cloud.

_This isn't right, _he finally told himself. _Something isn't right_.

Michelangelo began to carefully rise, but he couldn't escape Becky's grasp without waking her up again.

"Mike?" she murmured, sounding confused.

"Becky, _something's_ wrong," he said in a low voice. "I don't know what it is, but I can't shake it."

She sat up straight as he got to his feet. "Something's wrong with Donny?" she clarified.

"You _know_ how I get these feelings about him."

Rebecca nodded. "He had a rough night, falling out with Bran like that. If you need to talk to him, Mikey, then go."

Mike squeezed her hand. "I'll be back soon."

The orange-masked turtle smiled down at the sleeping baby as he passed the bassinet, and then quietly headed out of the room. He listened carefully as he crept past Olivia's room, but he didn't hear Raphael's one-year-old stirring either.

It was dark downstairs, with the exception of the light they usually left on. As Mike started down the steps, he caught sight of Jenna fast asleep on one of the couches. His brow furrowed as he studied the raven-haired woman.

_There's no _way_ Don got into a fight with her too. Geez, I'd better find his shell and figure out what's going on._

Michelangelo snuck past the young woman without disturbing her, and headed for the bedroom that Donatello shared with Jenna on the first floor. The door wasn't completely closed, so Mike inched it open slowly. A cursory glance of the room revealed no sign of his brother.

_Donny's not asleep. Big shocker._

Mike crossed through the hall to check the dojo and followed it up with the Lounge, but didn't find the purple-masked turtle.

_I suppose he could be working in his Lab, but I didn't see any lights on._

Mike stuck his head into his brother's inner sanctum, but the room was cold and dark, as if it had been abandoned for hours. He turned lastly for the kitchen, now fully expecting to find his brother sitting alone in the darkness. That room too was empty.

Mike felt confused as he returned to the living area, and pondered the matter in the middle of the room. _Where the shell is he? I know he's not off sleeping with Leo and Calley. That'd be too weird. I guess he could have gone for a walk. I need to find out._

He went to Jenna's sleeping figure, and carefully prodded her arm. "Jen, wake up," he urged.

The young woman jerked in surprise, and Michelangelo crouched down to her level. "I'm sorry to bother you. Do you know where Donny is?"

Jenna tossed black hair off her forehead sleepily. "Yeah, Mikey, he went to return Brandon's phone to him. Bran accidentally left it behind when he stormed out earlier."

Mike looked at his watch for the first time. "Jen, it's pushing 3AM. When did Donny leave?"

"It's _what_?" Her Australian accent automatically rose.

"It's about 3:00 in the morning," he told her. "Has Donny been gone long?"

Jenna swore loudly as she sat up, surprising Michelangelo a great deal. "Yes, he's been gone…It was around 11 when he left, Mike! I can't believe I let myself fall asleep!" She snatched her phone off the table, as if she needed to convince herself that it was really that late. "He wouldn't have stayed this long to talk to Brandon," Jen said to herself.

"Did Don go to make up with him?"

"That was his main incentive I think," she said distractedly, holding her cell up to her ear.

Mike waited as her expression changed.

"Don't you do this to me, Don," she said under her breath. Jenna hung up the phone, and immediately dialed again.

"Is he not answering? Which one are you calling?"

"Donny's phone went straight to voicemail. I'm trying Brandon's."

Even as she put the phone back to her ear, Mike had the sinking certainty that something was dreadfully wrong. He'd sensed it upstairs, but now proof was unfolding right in front of him. His initial inclination was to run and wake Leo up, but he waited to see what Jenna's efforts would accomplish first.

Her rate of breathing increased as she continued clutching her phone. "It's the same thing, Mike. The phones don't ring, they just…" The woman faltered, her light blue eyes suddenly looking lost and vulnerable.

Michelangelo took a deep breath and gave her the calmest look he could muster. "We'll track him down, sis; everything is gonna be okay." He patted her shoulder encouragingly. "Why don't you go look for his scanner, and I'm going to get Leo."

* * *

><p>The blue-masked turtle bolted upright in the darkness before the shadowy figure who'd entered the bedroom that he shared with Calley could reach him. "Who—"<p>

"It's me, Fearless," Mike said quietly. "Get up. Donny never came home."

Leonardo immediately pressed the button to illuminate the display of his watch, and he lunged to his feet when he saw what time it was. "Did you hear from him, Mike?"

"No, Leo. I just had a bad feeling, so I came down to check on Donny. I didn't even know he left."

"He went after you'd already gone to bed with Rebecca and Nate," Leo filled in. "Did you try raising him on the phone?"

"His cell and Bran's both go straight to voicemail."

"Don wouldn't have been gone this long without checking in," Leonardo reminded himself. "We're going to have to track him down."

"Leo, what's wrong?" Calley sounded a little dazed.

"Don's missing," he replied. "We have to get moving."

The blond woman's feet hit the floor in seconds. "What do we do first?"

"I asked Jen to find his scanner," Mike volunteered.

"Good," Leo replied. "Go wake up Raph and get him down here too."

As the blue-masked turtle strode out of the room, he felt like his heart was in his throat. _I should have _insisted_ on going with him. I shouldn't have let Don go alone. Where could he _be_?_

Leonardo shook his head at the sight of the two black and white border collies lying by the front door, probably waiting for Donatello to return. As he entered the living area, Jenna dashed out of the Lab.

"His scanner isn't here, Leo! I think he might have taken it with him!"

"Why would he do _that_?" Leonardo growled, more out of anxiety than anger.

"I don't know, Leo, but I can't find it, and he _always_ leaves it in plain sight."

Leonardo sighed noisily. "Then we'll have to track his implanted beacon through the computer."

At Jenna's doubtful look, he shook his head again. _The coordinates are more difficult to decipher through the computer than just _following_ the tracking technology with Don's hand-held device. But if the computer program is all we've got, then we have to make it work._

Before Leonardo could step one foot inside the Lab, his other two brothers were pounding down the stairs.

"Leo, what's the deal, huh?" Raphael demanded.

"I don't know anything more than you do, Raph," he tried to say patiently. "Don didn't come back, and we're going to look for him."

The red-masked turtle was already clutching the pommel of one of his sai. "Can't we do the tracking on foot, Fearless? Let's get going!"

"It's not that easy, Raph. We think he took the scanner with him, so we're stuck using the regular computer."

"Are you kidding me? None of us know what we're freaking _doing _with that thing!" Raphael didn't even try to contain his frustration.

"That's not true, Raph, Don worked hard to make sure we could use the interface too."

"Leo, do ya even know what an interface _is_?" he shot back.

"Forget about using the computer!" Jenna interjected. "Get on the phone with Doc. Have him pinpoint Donny with his scanner. Then if Don…if he needs extra help, Luke will already be prepared to assist."

Leonardo liked Jenna's logic, and that the plan allowed them to leave at once. "That's what we'll do, Jen. We'll head for the surface, and I'll call Doc while we're en route. We'll be in touch the minute we find out something."

"Be careful!" Karina called from the second level.

Leonardo looked up to see Raphael's wife at the railing, admitting to himself that he hadn't realized she or Becky were watching from above. The blue-masked turtle scanned between all four women, and tried to appear reassuring.

"Don't worry, ladies. We're on this, we'll find Don. I'll call you soon."

Leonardo led the way out the main door into the tunnel, trying to convince his own mind that Donatello was all right. _He never set off his panic button, and Don didn't try to call anyone. There could be a legitimate explanation for his disappearance, but it doesn't seem likely._

The grim look in Michelangelo's blue eyes made Leonardo more nervous.

"What kind of feeling did you get about him, Mikey?"

The orange-masked turtle wouldn't meet his eyes. "It was a dream, Leo. I'm trying not to read into it."

"Tell me," Leo insisted.

Mike's gaze remained focused on the floor of the tunnel as the younger turtle picked up speed, running slightly _ahead _of Leonardo. "I dreamed that he was drowning, and there wasn't a thing I could do to save him. When I woke up, the fear wouldn't go away."

"Genius will be okay," Raphael said gruffly. "He's had his share of trouble, and always come out on the other side. We just gotta figure out _where _he is, Leo. You gonna call Doc, or what?"

Leonardo unhooked his phone from his belt, and hit Luke's speed-dial. _Sorry, Doc, this is the price you pay for choosing to align yourself with this bunch._


	5. Golden Hour

Luke Barrows never slept very deeply. It could easily be blamed upon a combination of his long-term relationship with the turtles, and his on-and-off career inside the Emergency Room. Needless to say, when his cell phone rang on the bedside table, he was awake in a matter of seconds. A call interrupting a normal sleep cycle never indicated anything good, so the man snatched up the phone without even reading the display.

"Hello?" He kept his voice low, hoping not to wake his wife sleeping beside him.

"Doc, we need your help." Leonardo wasted no words on a greeting.

That was all it took for Luke to jerk out of bed, and instantly reach for a nearby dresser drawer to find clothes. "What's going on, Leo?"

"It's Don – he's missing. We can't find his hand-held scanner either, so he might have it on him. Can you look up his location for us?"

"Yes, hang on just a minute!" Luke didn't bother asking _why_ Donatello was missing; that could wait. The important thing was to find him for the other turtles as quickly as possible.

Luke put the phone down while he picked up his personal version of Donatello's hand-held scanner that was sitting on the other side of the dresser. He stole another glance back at the bed while he waited for the computer to boot up, and found Katherine already sitting up on her elbow.

"Luke, what's happening?" she asked.

"I don't know yet, but Leo said that Donny is missing. I'm bringing up his beacon now."

The entire family was equipped with the implanted means by which they could be tracked, but the particular version that the turtles and their girls wore was far more complicated in nature. Donatello's next-generation technology enabled the complex homing device the ability to also transmit medical vitals about individuals in real time.

The blond man caught his breath as the screen of the device flickered to life with a series of red flags. Luke swallowed deeply as he clicked past the initial warnings screaming for his attention, and focused on pinpointing Donatello's coordinates first.

While he waited for the coordinates to load, he grabbed up his cell phone once more. "It's searching, Leo, connecting his physical location to the nearest address. Why is Donny missing? What happened?"

"He and Brandon had a…a misunderstanding earlier this evening. Bran accidentally walked off without his phone, and Don left to return it to him. I know he wanted to patch things up with Brandon too. That was around 11pm, and we just discovered that Donny never came home."

Luke silently calculated the amount of time for which the purple-masked turtle had been unaccounted by the clock on the scanner, right before the desired result came up on the screen. "Got it, Leo. I don't recognize this address, but when I pull it out further, I can tell it's in the vicinity of Greg and Bran's neighborhood."

He recited the street number for Leonardo, and heard the turtle take a shaky breath.

"Great, thanks, Doc. Can you give me some idea of how he's doing physically?"

"Yeah. Hold on for another second." Luke balanced the phone between his ear and his shoulder, and set the scanner down on the dresser top so that he would have his hands free to scan through menus.

The man skipped back to the opening screen to the medical alerts that were being transmitted to the machine, and began reading through them one by one. _Okay…wow. His blood pressure is spiking; I don't think I've _ever _seen it this high. That's not a good sign to start with._

He sighed anxiously as he continued, fear rising over the possible complications he was about to uncover. _My God. His heart rate is under 40 beats per minute. _Luke felt his _own _heart rate speeding up as he tried to imagine where the symptoms could be leading. _There's hypertension, bradycardia, and…irregular respiration?_

Luke clicked back through the history to get a glimpse of his breathing in the long term. _This is weird. It reminds me of something like Cheyne Stokes. _With the realization, a warning bell immediately went off in his head.

"Cushing's Triad," Luke stated automatically.

"What?" Leonardo sounded utterly confused.

"Cushing's Triad." Luke was temporarily incapable of elaborating.

"You said that," Leo replied sharply. "What does it _mean_?"

"It means Donny is in big trouble. What mode of transportation are you using?"

"We're on one of the Sliders! We figured we'd make better time if we traveled underground most of the way. If we need to backtrack to get the van—"

"No, _don't_ backtrack, Leo! You need to get to him as quickly as possible. You three will definitely beat me to the scene. Make sure that you grab an oxi from one of the kits, because he's probably going to need oxygen support."

"Will the oxi keep him stable until you get there?"

"I hope so, Leo," he replied honestly.

"Doc, is this something life threatening?"

"Life threatening, and life _changing_, Leo! Get there as fast as you can, but try not to move him unless you have to. I'll get Kat on tracking down this address, to give you some idea of what kind of place you're walking into. I'll be there as soon I can!"

"Okay, Doc," Leo said tightly.

Luke hung up the phone, and hurried to finish getting dressed. As he turned toward the door, he was surprised to see Katherine getting off her own phone.

"What's the deal?" she asked.

"I have an address. The guys are already en route, and I have to go meet them."

"I'm going with you," she said firmly.

"No you're not, Kat. Somebody has to stay with the baby, and the guys _need_ me. Donny's not in good shape."

"I already spoke with Tim, and he and Victoria will be on our floor in five minutes. Victoria offered to stay with Reina, and Tim and I are going with you."

Luke wasn't in the mood to argue with the bronze-haired woman, and he didn't feel like he had time to either. He wasn't surprised by Katherine's drive in the least. His wife's former career with the FBI usually caused her to take a strong role in uncertain circumstances.

"All right, Kat." Luke got out of the way so that the woman could get dressed.

He strode through the living room of their condo, walking straight for the closet that housed his field kit. The bag was ready to go; the only addition it required was a couple of the formulas that he and Donatello had created with the turtles' unique chemistry in mind. Luke went to the kitchen next, selecting the meds from the refrigerator that he imagined he might need on the scene.

He was grateful to have Tim and Victoria only two floors away from them, but he was also frustrated with the distance they needed to cover. The condo was a temporary solution for him and Kat upon returning to New York City after the earthquake that had destroyed their loft. While it was convenient to be located in the same building as Tim and Victoria, it put him in a worse position to get to the turtles quickly in an emergency like this one.

Luke was trying hard to regulate his breathing and to not panic while he waited for everyone to come together. He was highly experienced in dealing with traumatic injuries, both inside a professional environment and in the field. It was an unfamiliar feeling for the nerves to be building this rapidly in advance of even _seeing _Donny, but he carried the unfortunate knowledge of what Cushing's Triad really meant.

A knock at the door broke him out of his exercise in anxiety management, and Luke hurried to let his friends inside the condo. He was surprised to find Tim in his full police uniform.

The dark-haired man gave him a knowing glance. "I wanted to be prepared, Luke. There's no telling what we might need to deal with, and the badge helps remove obstacles."

"It can also get you in big trouble with the NYPD," Luke commented.

"That feels insignificant in light of things," Tim answered.

Katherine rushed out of the Master bedroom to join them. "Thank you for coming, Victoria, I really appreciate it."

The auburn-haired woman gave her a reassuring smile. "Go. Everything will be fine with Reina; you don't need to worry about a thing."

Tim held up his keys. "I'm driving. I've got the siren, and I know your penchant for driving badly when you're rushed, Luke."

The doctor shook his head. "Let's just _go_, please."

As Timothy led them down the hallway, Luke noticed Katherine shift in a way that displayed her firearm.

"You're packing?" Luke asked. He hadn't seen the woman carry the a weapon since she'd left the FBI.

"I'm not taking any chances, Luke. We can't afford to."

He didn't reply to Katherine; it was all Luke could do to continue walking in a straight line. Every fiber of his being was fighting to maintain an even exterior, but he could feel cracks appearing in his façade.

Luke looked in Kat's direction again, and found the woman already staring at him. "I should call Marc and April," he said.

As they stepped inside the elevator, he pressed his phone to his ear and waited for his friend and colleague to pick up. Marcus answered groggily on the fourth ring.

"Marc, are you awake? I need you to listen to me!" Luke said forcefully to get his attention.

"Yeah, I'm up. What's wrong Luke?"

"Something's happened to Donny. He went missing for several hours tonight, and now he's displaying symptoms of Cushing's Triad."

The sleep disappeared from Marc's voice in a flash. "_Where_ is he, Luke? What the heck is going on?"

"We don't know anything yet, Marc, except for what the machine is telling me! The guys are on their way to get him, and Tim, Kat, and I are going to meet them. What I need is for you and Caleb to get underground, and set up the Lab. We may be operating tonight. Try and really prepare Caleb, because we're going to need all hands on this."

"All right, Luke, we're moving. Call us when you know anything else!"

As he hung up with Marcus, Luke took another breath to steady himself. He felt Kat watching him, but he didn't acknowledge her gaze this time. Luke said nothing as the elevator carried them the rest of the way down to the underground parking garage. He sensed a heaviness descending on his shoulders, like a giant weight that was threatening to drive him into the ground.

"Luke, what's going on here?" Kat reached for his arm. "You're kind of scaring me right now. What's Cushing's Triad?"

"It's a trio of symptoms, that when they occur together, signify a dire situation," Luke replied without looking at her. "It's indicative of a traumatic rise in intracranial pressure."

"That's related to a head injury, isn't it?" Kat asked.

"Yes, Kat. Cushing's Triad is a _late_ presenting symptom of the condition. It means that his intracranial pressure has already been too high, for too long."

"But we're catching up with him," Tim interjected. "It's reversible, isn't it?"

"It's not always that simple…" Luke trailed off, swiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Luke, be real with us," Kat insisted. "You're afraid. I can see it, and I never have in a situation like this."

"We missed golden hour," he murmured so softly, he was sure they probably hadn't heard him.

"We missed what?" Tim asked.

"In medicine, there's something called the golden hour. It doesn't refer to 60 minutes exactly. It's simply a time frame ranging from a few minutes to several hours that follows a traumatic injury, where the greatest chance for rescuing a patient lies. We missed it, and I don't know what's going to happen to Donny. There's a possibility that he already has brain damage. There's a chance that…" Luke couldn't bring himself to finish.

"He could die?" Tim filled in quietly.

Luke nodded with difficulty. "We just have to keep going. I'm doing my best to stay calm, guys."

Katherine gripped his arm tighter. "We're with you, Luke. If there's anything else I can be doing—"

"There is, actually. Is the computer still set up in your car, Tim?"

"It only needs to be turned on," the man replied.

"Good. Kat, I need you to look up this address for the guys, so we can give them a clue about the structure they're approaching…and we have to step on it to get there too."


	6. Finding Donny

Leonardo fought to maintain his practiced calm as he and his brothers raced beneath the city streets. There had been many occasions in the past when he'd asked Michelangelo to slow down in driving one of the Sliders, but this time he wished it would go faster.

His brothers were quiet. There had been some discussion among them up to the point that Leonardo had talked to Luke. Once the blue-masked turtle had outright asked the doctor if Don's condition was life-threatening, however, a tense silence had descended over the Slider.

Leonardo was trying to let neither frustration nor fear get the better of him, but it was difficult. _If Mike hadn't felt something, if he hadn't gone looking for Don_, none_ of us would have. We all simply feel asleep with the false sense of security that nothing could go wrong on a little errand like that one. I wouldn't have even noticed Donatello missing until morning._

He wasn't surprised that Michelangelo had been the one to sense that something was awry. The two youngest turtles had always shared a strong rapport, and Mike was known for an uncanny sensitivity where Donatello was concerned.

_I'm glad Mike woke up; I just wish _I_ had been a little more aware, _Leonardo thought bitterly. _It was irresponsible for me to go to bed with him out there alone. I ought to have gone with Donny to begin with…_

A hand on his shoulder distracted him from the thought, and Leonardo glanced over at Raphael.

"We're gonna find him, Fearless, no doubt. Everything is gonna be okay," Raphael finished gruffly, probably to mask his apprehension.

Leonardo nodded at his brother, then turned toward Mike who was behind the control panel of the Slider. "What's our position, Mike?"

The youngest turtle studied the display in front of him, reading the map of the roads that were flying by above them with the ease that came from years of experience. "We're only a few blocks out, Leo! It won't be much further."

Leo took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He resisted the urge to tell Mike to go faster, and forced a couple more calming breaths. His mind was threatening to spin with the possibilities of what could be wrong with his missing brother, and his heart rate was increasing.

_We've got to get there! Why does everything have to take so long?_

Minutes dragged by, and he was relieved when he sensed the Slider slowing down. Leonardo got to his feet before the vessel even came to a stop, going to Michelangelo's side.

"Are we close enough, Mike?" he asked.

"The building should be right above us," Mike acknowledged.

His orange-masked brother's words were set off by a text alert on Leonardo's phone. Leo drew out his cell and tapped the screen to read the message, which had been sent by Luke only seconds beforehand. He perused the text silently, and was surprised by how close by his brothers were hovering when he looked up.

"It's from Doc. He found some information on the place we're heading. It's an apartment building that was under construction before the earthquake. The structure went under serious delays, but it's mostly finished now. Definitely not inhabited yet."

"Good," Raphael said shortly. "Then there's a chance nobody _saw_ his shell. Let's go get him, Leo."

After helping to secure the Slider, Leonardo led the way cautiously to the surface. He hesitated at the top of the manhole for a few moments, looking around completely before emerging onto the pavement. He saw what looked like a new development almost immediately, dark and foreboding under the cloudy moonless sky. Leonardo heard a rumble of thunder, but it sounded as if it had come from several miles away.

"How are we doing this, Fearless?" Raphael wanted to know. "Where do we start looking?"

"It makes sense to work our way down from the top," Leonardo said decisively. "But let's take a quick look around the perimeter while we're down here. Be on your guard. We don't know that Donatello was attacked, but it's definitely a possibility."

Leo sensed his brothers huddling in close behind him as he walked around the side of the building, stepping into a shadowed alleyway. _If Don's trouble started on the ground, it probably would have been somewhere around here._

The blue-masked turtle studied the pavement and searched for signs of disturbances as they made their circuit. He was in such a state of high alert that he nearly lashed out when someone jerked him by the arm.

"Leo, _up_, look up there!" Raphael exclaimed.

Leonardo squinted in the direction in which his brother was pointing and managed to make out the end of an insulated cable, tapping against the side of the building in the wind.

"Raph, let me see that kit for a minute," he requested.

Raphael unslung the bag from his shoulder and handed it over. Leonardo searched through the contents of the emergency kit until he located a pair of digital binoculars. Leo fumbled a little clumsily with the device, before remembering the correct way to turn them on.

Leonardo backed up in the alley to give himself space for a better vantage point, then searched for the broken cable in the view finder. He followed where the wire led, and his heart skipped when he landed on what appeared to be a shattered panel of glass. He wasn't able to contain a gasp, and it had both of his brothers crowding him.

"What did you see?" Mike asked.

"I see where our search is going to start," Leonardo said grimly. "C'mon."

The oldest turtle climbed over a dumpster that was directly beneath the fire escape, and began to ascend the side of the building. He felt like he was holding his breath with every step on the metal staircase, anticipation building over what they were about to find. As he drew himself over the front of a balcony, Leonardo swallowed nervously.

He surveyed the scene, noting the piles of tempered glass that littered the overlook like new fallen snow. "Watch your step, guys, there's a lot of glass. The pieces are mostly small, but they could still cut us."

Raphael swore when he dropped onto the balcony beside him. "_Shell_, Leo, the amount of force to break something like that…"

"Would have been enormous," Leonardo finished. "I have a feeling that cable line factors into this, Raph. Something snapped the wire, and caused something _else_ to come crashing down."

"You're suggesting _Donny_ came crashing down," Raphael said tightly.

"All we can do is look—" Leonardo cut off as the red-masked turtle surged forward, heedless of the glass. "Raph, you have to be careful! We don't need any more injuries on our hands."

Raphael didn't answer him, instead holding up a bo staff that couldn't even be mistaken in the shadows. "He was _here_, Leo."

"He's still here," Leonardo corrected. "And we're going to find him."

The blue-masked turtle turned around, and found Mike staring vacantly at the ruined panel where the wall of glass used to be.

"Let's go," Leo said firmly. "Stay alert."

Leonardo drew a flashlight out of the kit that was draped over his shoulder, and his free hand strayed toward the hilt of one of his katana as he crossed into the building. The urge to call Donatello's name was strong, but he remained silent.

_No sense in giving ourselves away, just in case someone else _is_ here._

Leonardo's eyes roved around the living room that led directly to an open kitchen. The apartment appeared to be nearly finished, to the point that a couple of appliances were already inside. Another large crate was waiting in the center of the living room, and when he got close, it was clear the box had taken some kind of damage.

Raphael came to his side as Leo shone the light over the box and the surrounding floor. The red-masked turtle bent close to the hardwood as Leonardo illuminated it from above, and he traced the surface with his finger. "There's blood down here, Fearless. It almost looks like…"

Raphael trailed off as he searched further around the floor. "Seems like a void. Something was laying here. Something _big_."

"It's possible that whatever came through that window got hung up on the crate," Leonardo suggested, testing his weight against the box. "It's solid. I think there's another appliance in here."

"But we still don't know if it was Donny," Mike said, from where he'd been quietly observing them. "If it _was_ him, and he was capable of moving, it seems like he would have set off his beacon."

"We have to keep looking," Leo said. He raised the flashlight from the hardwood floor and focused the beam parallel to the shattered glass wall.

On his right, he felt Michelangelo stiffen. The orange-masked turtle darted toward the small center island that separated the kitchen from the living area. From the way his younger brother's shoulders shuddered, it was obvious something had upset him.

"What is it, Mikey?" Leo called.

"More blood," he replied dully, running a hand over the stone surface as he walked around the island. "Holy shell, Leo, the granite is _cracked_! Something came down on the counter hard enough to…" Michelangelo didn't finish as he suddenly dropped to the floor. "Donny's _here_, you guys!"

Relief was the first emotion to hit Leonardo as he pursued Mike, circling the island to find his brother crouching on the tile beside the twisted form of the purple-masked turtle. Leonardo forgot to breathe as he took in the sight of Donatello, whose shell was wedged up against the oven as if he'd gotten stuck.

It took Leonardo an instant to realize how close Michelangelo looked to moving Donny. "Don't touch him!" he nearly shouted. "We're not supposed to do anything but put an oxi on him!"

Mike trembled as he gripped Donatello's wrist. "He doesn't have much of a pulse. There's blood down here, but I can't tell…"

Leonardo touched Mike's shoulder with gentle firmness in his grip. "Mike, give me some space for a minute, okay? I need to set up the oxi like Doc said."

"Yeah, Leo. Gimme the light and I'll hold it for you." Michelangelo sounded hoarse.

Mike kept the light overhead while Leonardo positioned himself behind Donatello, and wrapped a tense hand under his brother's neck. Years of training with his Sensei have given Leonardo the ability to determine whether there was a break in a bone by touch, though he was nowhere near as adept as his genius brother.

As he carefully turned Donatello's head, he realized that his brother was still bleeding from serious abrasions on the right side, and the liquid also appeared to be coming from his mouth. Leonardo sucked in a sharp breath as his fingers detected a depression _above_ the abrasions.

"_Shell_!" he exclaimed when he found his voice.

Raphael was bending over beside him in a flash. "Just hold his head, Leo, and I'll put the oxi on."

Leonardo wanted to acknowledge the red-masked turtle, but he was too distracted by the fact that his brother's skull was cracked.

"Leo? What is it?" Raphael pressed.

"I…um…I'm kind of afraid to move here," he said honestly. "His skull has been fractured – I can feel the indentation."

The flashlight overhead wavered in Mike's grip, and Leonardo heard Raphael's breathing quicken.

"Stay calm, both of you," Leonardo said more strongly than he felt. "I'm just going to keep my hand under him until help gets here. Raph, put the oxi on, and one of you call Doc. Let him know that we found Don."

Leonardo couldn't allow himself to visibly falter again, so he steeled himself to keep calm too. After slowly slipped the oxi over Donatello's mouth, Raphael got back to his feet.

"I'll call Doc," he said flatly.

Leonardo noticed the flashlight moving, and looked up to see Mike's hand still trembling. "Mike, take a deep breath. It's going to be okay."

"This isn't okay, Leo, a skull fracture is _never_ okay! How did this happen?"

"It may have been a giant accident," Leo returned, but even as the words left his mouth, his mind negated them. _There were obviously _two_ separate points of impact inside the apartment. Either someone else came through with him, or they _caused _the second impact after the first had already taken place._

Mike lowered to the floor again and tentatively brushed Donatello's shoulder. Leonardo heard the youngest turtle sniff, and realized Mike was barely fighting off tears.

"He's alive, Mikey, and Doc's coming," Leo told him. "Hold on with me, all right?"

As Mike shifted his spot on the floor with the light, Leonardo suddenly noticed a small pattern on the tile.

"Go back, Mike. Shine the light where you had it a second ago!" he urged.

The orange-masked turtle focused on what turned out to be a patch of dried blood.

"Fingerprints," Leonardo said with certainty. "Do you see the ridges? Someone else _was _here!"

"But…but, Leo, who else would have been up this high? Donny must have been using the rooftops. We don't exactly run into traffic jams."

"I don't know, Mike, but I don't think this was an accident now. At least, it doesn't look that way. It probably took less than twenty minutes for that particular blood trace to dry, so that means someone else had to be here fairly quickly after it happened."

"Then they left without finishing him off?" Mike wondered aloud.

"Maybe they thought he was dead, or dying. Maybe they believed—" A blaring alarm almost made Leonardo lose his grip on Don's head.

"What the shell?" Raphael clapped his phone shut and rapidly drew his sai.

"Be quiet!" Leo hissed. "There's someone talking."

Raphael swore softly. "I can't believe we didn't clear this place. If I find the guys that did this to Donny, I ain't guaranteeing I can take 'em alive, Leo."

"Mike, go with him," Leonardo directed. "It came from down the hall."

He saw the deep-set scowl on Michelangelo's face as his brother rose to join Raphael. Leonardo tensed as the other two turtles disappeared around the corner of the hall. The strange voice presently grew stronger, and he suddenly realized it sounded more like a recording than a live person.

The red-masked turtle looked sorely disappointed when he reappeared with Mike. "It's nothing but a dang weather radio, Leo, talking about flooding way north of here. We found it in a pile of other stuff the workmen musta left behind."

Leonardo rolled his eyes. _Ridiculous. I know Raph was hoping Donny's attacker _was_ still here. I can't say as I blame him._

Mike once more knelt on the tile with him, and he allowed the beam of the light to rest on Donatello.

"Take it slowly, Mike. I want to see if there are any other noticeable injuries," Leonardo encouraged him.

Rather than listening to him, Mike was staring at Donatello's shoulder. "Leo, look at those marks. What do they remind you of?"

The blue-masked turtle bent his head over to get a closer look, then cringed. "Taser burns. Whoever did this was _not_ playing fair."

Michelangelo clenched his eyes shut, squeezing the flashlight so hard in his fist that it looked like he might break it. "I don't feel like playing fair either, Leo. I'm with Raph. When we catch up with these dudes, they're gonna _pay_, one way or another."


	7. Distractions

Luke took a calming breath to collect himself as Tim pulled the car up on the correct block. Timothy turned off his siren with a flip of his wrist, and Luke heard him groan.

"We have spectators," Tim announced.

"Now that we need access to the building, _now_ there are spectators?" Luke asked incredulously. "Leo said everything was quiet. Where did those people come from?"

The doctor suspiciously eyed the cluster of individuals that were lingering on the outskirts of the alley as if they were enemy combatants.

"Luke, be cool," Timothy instructed. "This is why I came prepared. I'll distract them and make them move further away from the scene, and you guys can get Donny down. Does that sound like a solid plan?"

"It does to me," Kat announced as she hung up her phone. "The question is, where do I fit in?"

"Where do you think you'll be most effective?" Luke flipped the question around.

"Well…it might be better if I stayed on the ground to assist in the distracting," she said thoughtfully. "And there's Brandon to consider too."

"Did you find out anything about your brother's flight?" Luke asked.

"The airline said that the plane for Port Royal left about two hours ago. Just the same, I'd like to check the apartment and make _sure_ Bran isn't there. From the looks of things Donny never got that far, but I'd feel better if we checked it out."

"We as in you and Tim?"

Katherine shot Timothy a questioning look. "If he's up for it."

The other man nodded stoically.

"Good; I'd prefer you didn't go alone," Luke said. "Too many unknown factors tonight. Donny needs medical attention in the worst way, and I'll be freer to focus given that you'll be together."

"Hold on," Kat said, as if realizing something. "There's bound to be evidence of the events that transpired upstairs. Maybe I should go with you for the moment, Luke, in case I need to cover something up."

"Agreed," Luke said swiftly. "But if there's much blood, it could take some heavy duty cleaning, and I don't want you alone up there either."

"Or some simple contamination." Timothy snorted. "Look in my back end, Luke. I've got a couple bottles of bleach. Just make sure you take one up with you."

"Do you always carry bleach around in your trunk?" Luke asked curiously.

Tim looked at him in the rearview mirror. "Are you forgetting about the time Mike got chased down by the NYPD, Luke? I've carried bleach with me ever since that night when I had to contaminate _his_ evidence."

Luke shook his head. "Yeah…of course. That makes sense."

"Okay, here's how it's going down," Tim said. "I'm gonna pull up alongside these characters. Let me get out first to talk to them, and have them go across the street. Once they're out of range, you two make your move on the alley, and climb up the fire escape. Does that sound doable?"

Luke nodded his assent as Katherine double-checked her firearm. "You realize you won't be shooting anyone, right?"

She looked back at him with a trace of familiar hardness in her eyes. "Maybe not yet," Katherine allowed. "But there's the small matter of tracking down whoever attacked Donny."

Luke sighed. "Unless someone starts boasting about it in the middle of the street, I don't see how we'll find these guys, Kat."

"Yes we will, Luke," she replied with certainty.

Luke folded his arms nervously as Timothy got out of the car and disappeared around the side of the vehicle. _The spell of peace is over, _he thought, disheartened. _I knew Kat wouldn't be satisfied to sit on the sidelines forever. She has far too many useful skills to be locked up behind four walls for the rest of her life. I enjoyed her break from law enforcement while it lasted, and I wish she could stay safe…But I can't say I blame Kat either. I didn't expect Raph or Mike to retire when they had kids. How can I say that _she_ has to?_

"You know I'm going to be careful, Luke." Kat's statement called him out of contemplation. "You would rather I stay away from the action, and I understand where you're coming from. But catching the bad guys, the worst of the worst…it's in my blood."

"I know it is," he answered. "And I've never asked you to walk away from the FBI. I've enjoyed not needing to worry about you, but I knew this eventuality was coming. Tonight's events only expedited things, didn't they?"

Katherine sighed softly as she holstered her gun. "I'm on edge because _you're_ on edge, Luke. You don't normally let me see your nerves this way."

"I'm trying to get them under control," Luke replied. "I don't want the guys to see them."

"This is really that bad?"

He stared silently back at his wife for a few seconds. "Kat, the _statistics_ are bad, but I haven't seen Donny in person yet. I can't say anything for sure."

Luke turned his head as he sensed shadowy figures moving under Tim's direction. "Let's get ready to go, Kat. We need to get up there."

The woman watched wordlessly as Timothy engaged the bystanders in a discussion on the other side of the street, then inched her door open. "Follow my lead, ok, Luke?"

He nodded instantly. It only made sense to allow Katherine to guide their footsteps. _She's the professional after all_.

Luke gave all of his concentration to not making a sound as he slipped into the alleyway behind the woman. He waited as Katherine peered at the fire escape that was out of their immediate reach. He could see the wheels turning in her mind before she climbed on top of the dumpster. While Luke watched, the woman boosted off the side of the building, leaping with the grace of a cat to catch the end of the ladder.

_Sometimes I think Kat has more in common with the guys than she does me. She's just as dedicated to Taekwondo as they are to ninjutsu, and it shows. I haven't had a lot of opportunities to see her skills in action over the last couple of years, but she and Brandon have been as committed to their workouts as ever._

The bronze-haired woman made an adjustment to the ladder to extend the extra length, and to make it easier for Luke to reach.

_I'm definitely the sore thumb in this crowd. But then, if we were all out trying to kick someone's tail, there wouldn't be anyone left to administer medical attention._

He climbed the ladder a little awkwardly with the plastic bag containing the bleach bottle over his shoulder. Katherine plucked the sack from him at the first opportunity.

"I'm doing fine, Kat," he complained.

"For a first timer, I suppose."

"I've been chasing these guys down for years, Kat, There's no 'first time' about it."

"Just an expression, hon," she said without cracking a smile. "I know you're not some newbie."

"A little respect, that's all I'm asking for," he grunted in return, as he yanked his way onto the platform of the fire escape.

"You're my big strong man."

"And you're just patronizing me." He grinned before the seriousness of the situation dropped in his spirit once more. "Let's keep moving, Kat. We don't have any more time to lose."

* * *

><p>Raphael had been waiting on pins and needles ever since hearing the lone police siren, and they'd received a pulse from Tim's watch confirming that help had arrived.<p>

_What the shell could be taking Doc so long?_

The red-masked turtle was close to exploding under the force of building pressure, when he finally heard the sound of footsteps crunching on broken glass from the balcony. He popped his head outside so fast that he startled Luke and Katherine.

"Doc, we need you _now_," he emphasized. "We could barely find a pulse on Donny!"

Luke didn't bother saying anything as he strode inside the apartment.

"Over here, behind the island, Doc!" Leo's voice rang out more loudly than it usually would have.

Raphael was following directly behind the man, so that he had to pull up short when Luke froze. The doctor's rigid posture was anything but reassuring, but Luke only hesitated a moment before hurrying to Leonardo's side.

Leo was still cradling Donatello's head in his lap as he looked up at the man with a pained expression. "I feel a fracture," he said quietly. "I didn't want to risk moving his head again until you got here."

"Hold him steady for another minute, okay, Leo? I'm going to get a couple of readings on your brother," Luke answered evenly.

Raphael sensed Michelangelo come up beside him, then realized that he and his younger brother were probably a little too close for Luke's comfort. He gripped Mike's arm to guide him backwards, and noticed Katherine standing by the shattered pane.

"Did you find anything definitive, Raph?" she asked when he made eye contact. "Any clues on who else might have been here?"

"Nothing that can help us, Kat," he said stiffly. "We know at least one other person was here, probably more, but we don't know anything else."

"We're not going to get time to figure it out either," Kat said. "Someone finally got wise down there. We had spectators waiting around the building when we arrived."

Raphael rolled his eyes. "Middle of the night, and people still can't mind their own business. That's New York for ya. Is Tim handling things down there?"

"Yeah, he took charge of directing the people across the street to give us some space to maneuver safely."

"We should get the shell out of here while we've got the chance, Fearless!" Raphael raised his voice. "We've got company on the ground, and it's only a matter of time before Tim won't be _able _to control them!"

"We can't afford to get reckless with Don either, Raph," Leo replied.

"No, he's right," Luke cut in. "We have to go. I need a couple of minutes to prepare Donny to be moved, and we've got to beat a hasty exit."

Raphael squinted in the darkness at Luke while he worked, and gasped when he realized that the doctor was applying a neck brace to his brother.

"Doc, you don't think his neck is broken, do you?" Raphael blurted out before he could stop himself.

"No, I'm trying to protect his skull from further injury. This will help immobilize his head somewhat, just in case he experiences a seizure or some other strong jolt."

Luke's explanation should have made him feel better, but it didn't. _Doc's not in a hurry only because of the people gathering outside. He's _really _worried about Don._

Raphael willed himself to turn away from the scene in the kitchen, and walked out onto the overlook. He couldn't see anyone swarming the alley, but he felt even more on edge than before.

_Tim knows what he's doing, _he assured himself. _He'll think of something to keep them away from the building, even if he has to make up some far out excuse. That is, until the _real _authorities arrive. If somebody noticed the broken cable the way we did, they probably called 911._

Raphael had only been outside for a little over a minute before Luke came bustling out of the apartment. "Doc, what's up?"

"We're going," he replied swiftly. "I told you, we _have_ to hurry."

The red-masked turtle held Luke's gaze for a moment while his other two brothers worked together to support Donatello as they headed in the direction of the fire escape. The darkness made it difficult to read the doctor's features, but the man's sense of urgency and the tenseness in his stance conveyed how concerned Luke was.

_Of course he's concerned, idiot, _Raphael told himself. _A fractured skull is nothing to joke about, and it's the second one Don's had in a year and a half. But we _found _the Genius, we've got the help we need….it has to be enough. We just gotta get Donny to safety, and we'll be in the clear._

Luke broke away from the turtle to look back into the apartment. "What are you doing in there, Kat?"

"Contaminating Donny's DNA!" her voice returned. "Go – I'll catch up with you later! Remember I'm sticking with Tim, and we're going to check Greg and Brandon's place."

"Make sure you're gone _soon_!" Luke pleaded. "Hurry and finish it. We're going to need the whole family together."

Luke's wording struck Raphael strangely. It made sense that the extended clan would huddle up at a time like this, but something about the _way_ Doc said it was disturbing. There was a desperate undertone to Luke's normally even keel.

"I will, Luke! After we check the apartment, we'll stop back at the condo to pick up Victoria and Reina, all right?"

"Good; Jen's going to need her Mom," Luke said more softly. "We've got to go, Kat, be safe!"

Leonardo and Michelangelo were already out of sight with Donatello, and Luke immediately headed for the fire escape after his parting words to Katherine. Raphael caught the man by the arm before he could descend over the side of the balcony.

"Doc, be real with me. I don't remember hearing you sound this scared before. Everything's gonna work out, isn't it?"

"There isn't time to get into it right now, Raph. I promise I'm not going to hide anything from you, but it needs to wait for a little while."

The turtle considered objecting, but then shut his mouth. _I shouldn't push him about it this second, not with everything he's dealing with._

A numb feeling spread through Raphael's body as he followed Luke to the ground. As his feet touched the pavement, a realization crossed his mind. _Doc didn't even try to reassure me. Shell, this is _not_ good. He always has something to say to try and make us feel better._

Emotion was welling up through his stoic exterior, and Raphael had to breathe deeply to control it. _He's alive, Donny's alive. The docs will get him through this. Losing it isn't gonna help anybody._

The sound of additional sirens in the distance caught Raphael's ear, and he picked up speed along with the others. The exited the alley at the opposite end from which they'd entered, and Raphael yanked the cover off the first manhole he saw.

The red-masked turtle leaped down into the darkness so he could take Donatello from his other brothers. An uncontrollable shudder traveled through Raphael as he carefully clutched Donny in his arms. All the fear and desperation came spilling out in an instant, as the urge to cry became too great to resist.


	8. Prisoner

***It's about time that we caught up with Brandon, isn't it? Remember him? ::shaking head:: I can only hope that by the time this story is over, he'll have found some way to forgive me.**

* * *

><p>For Brandon, waking up in a dark enclosed space was almost as disconcerting as the pain that was radiating through his jaw. The man had experienced a number of bad hits since joining the turtles' inner circle, but the last blow from Daichi had to be the hardest he'd ever been struck.<p>

_And that's saying a lot, _he thought ironically. _Years of sparring and Taekwondo, but nothing else touches that hit._

Brandon had come around to find himself lying on his side on the damp floor with his hands bound behind his back and no memory of anything that had happened between getting knocked out and arriving in this strange place. Fear had been his automatic reaction after confusion, but he'd fought to calm himself down.

_They'll come. The guys will get me out of this, I know it. It's only a matter of time._

Brandon writhed his wrists uselessly, just to find out if there was any room to squirm within the iron manacles. He wasn't surprised to discover his hands weren't going anywhere, but he still groaned in frustration against the duct tape plastered over his mouth.

How_ did I not hear those guys coming? Geesh, you'd think that the guys never taught me anything. Not that _hearing_ them would have helped matters much. I couldn't have even taken Daichi, let alone the rest of them. But I might have been able to yell, or at least set off my…_

His watch. Brandon had just realized that he couldn't feel the timepiece on his wrist.

_Well, it doesn't matter. The guys can still track me through my implant; they just have to figure out what's going on. _

Brandon heard the scrape of a metal door grating against the floor, and instantly stiffened. There were two voices at the head of the room, both speaking in Japanese. An overhead light clicked on, revealing a storage closet for the first time.

_Not understanding anything is going to get old quick. How would they like it if I only used Spanish to talk to them? It's tempting. _Brandon's heart rate quickened as he heard someone walking toward him. _It's too much to hope that they'd leave me alone until the guys can spring me, isn't it? Then again…they must have some ulterior motive for taking me to begin with. So help me, I'm _not_ going to be bait._

Brandon rolled his eyes at the ceiling. _Like I have some choice in the matter? They can do whatever they want to with me, and that includes setting a trap. _Anxiety surged at the realization that Daichi could be planning to use him against the turtles that way. _If they got hurt because of me, I don't know what I'd do. But they're smarter than that, _he encouraged himself_. Donny will be prepared, just like always. I have to hang on until then._

A dirty shoe nudged his ribcage, and Brandon met the eyes of one of his kidnappers. He saw no hint of malice, surprisingly enough, but only curiosity. As Brandon stared at the stranger, he was startled when the other man grabbed a fistful of his bronze hair and jerked his head off the floor. The aggressor uttered a couple of sharp words, yanking him by one of his arms so hard that it felt like he was going to tear it from the socket.

Brandon didn't dare struggle as the curious one caught him by the left side. _There's no point in fighting. It would only get me hurt at the moment. I'm lucky _Daichi _didn't do worse. I wonder where the big guy is. I'd imagine he'd want to be front and center so he could gloat over me._

The world rocked back and forth dizzily as the two men carried Brandon out of the cramped dark closet, into a more _spacious_ dark room. _I guess they don't care for lights too much._

Brandon heard a cavernous echo when the metal door closed, indicating the true size of the new room. _I wonder where they've brought me. It feels colder in here than it should be – it was still summer the last time I checked._

A deep voice addressed his captors from the shadows, and Brandon resisted the urge to cringe. He recognized the voice by now. Daichi spoke one more unintelligible word that sounded distinctly like a command, and the two men dropped Brandon into a lone chair that was positioned under a small light.

Brandon set his face like flint as the men twisted his arms behind his back, removing the manacles so that they could bind him to the hardback chair. _It's kind of surreal to be on this side, _he thought ruefully. _The only time I've ever seen Daichi is in the middle of a fight. I never wondered what he might be like at rest._

One more order from Daichi appeared to dismiss the men. His jailers backed away into darkness, leaving Brandon alone with Daichi. The young man tried to shift his wrists instinctively inside the painful position in which they were locked, and to keep his face impassive at the same time.

The large man was staring down at him, clearly trying to intimidate Brandon. _Not gonna work, man. I've seen you get your tail beat down by the turtles too many times, and it's about to happen again. I hope you've taken out an insurance policy since they saw you last. No _way_ will they go easy on you again._

Daichi continued to hold Brandon's gaze, until the gesture began to feel less imposing, and more as if the man was perplexed.

"Why do they choose you?" Daichi asked finally. "Why _here_?"

Brandon tried not to convey the confusion his questions raised in his _own _mind. It was clear Daichi meant them to be rhetorical, because he hadn't even removed his gag yet. As the Asian man stroked his chin in thought, Brandon laughed inwardly.

_He could hurt himself if he tries to think too hard. This guy is _not _the sharpest tool in the shed._

It wasn't until Daichi bent closer to him under the light that Brandon realized the man was injured. Daichi's face was a mass of small cuts, and he possessed an impressive bruise over his left eye.

_What the heck? He didn't have those before. Did he get into a fight with his own men? That doesn't make sense._

A smile curled on Daichi's lips, and it was the first expression that succeeded in making Brandon truly nervous.

"You must wonder why we take you," the man said.

Daichi's English was better than Brandon had expected. _I didn't figure I was being invited to a party, _he thought with annoyance.

"You have much to say, but later," Daichi pronounced carefully. "Right now, you listen."

Brandon steadied his gaze, trying to communicate disgust with every fiber of his being.

"Not afraid, are you? That will change." Daichi chuckled. "Stay with me, and you will long for death."

_I think I prefer not being able to understand him._

"This is the start of the finish for all of you," Daichi continued.

_He could still use a few more lessons on threatening someone in English. _

"Make no mistake, James, you will die," Daichi said casually. "But not before I have what I want."

The Asian man leaned so closely to him, Brandon could feel the heat from his breath.

"You will tell what I want to hear. You will answer me, or suffer far greater. I learned much from my Master."

_This is about me _talking_? That's so not happening. _Brandon scowled openly at Daichi with his eyes, and the man smirked back at him.

"It is much greater pleasure to break someone who is strong, than the one who is weak. I will enjoy it very much."

_Where do they get these lines? Is there some villain's handbook lying around for them to pull threats from? The next thing he'll be telling me is that he has ways of making me talk. Moron._

Daichi ripped the duct tape off his mouth faster than Brandon could blink. He tried to bite back the cry of pain it elicited, but wasn't successful.

"It is clear you underestimate me," Daichi stated. "Most people do. But this time Takashi will get to see the truth about me."

"From prison?" Brandon croaked. "You must have some miraculous powers."

"Not unlike the Shitenno?" Daichi challenged.

Brandon shut his mouth and refused to rise to the question. Daichi crouched to his level, resting a heavy hand around Brandon's back.

"You can speak now or later, James. Either way, you will tell everything."

Brandon held his eyes unflinching. "No…I won't. There's nothing you can do to make me help you. _Nothing._"

Daichi's smile widened. "I am not sure of that, and you should not be either. If Takashi were here, he would say it makes no sense to begin so late. But I am not Takashi. I am Daichi, and I have much to prove. You _are_ going to help me."

Brandon started to shake his head, and was surprised when Daichi caught his throat in a vise-like grip. Strangely, the man released him after only a few seconds without air.

"We start with one, James. Why do the Shitenno choose _you_?"

Brandon's eyes narrowed defiantly. "_Esta loca en la cabeza, idiota. Mis amigos van a hacer dano_." (You're crazy in the head, you idiot. My friends are going to hurt you.)

Daichi laughed. "This is easy one, James. It gets harder from here."

"Usted esta perdiendo el tiempo, pobre excusa para un guerrero. No voy a hablar." (You're wasting your time, you lame excuse for a warrior. I won't talk.)

"You do not amuse me, James. But then, I have not much to laugh for in the last year and a half. You will regret refusing."

Brandon was halfway through the action of rolling his eyes when Daichi's backhand whipped his head sideways.

"You will not disrespect me, James, else you are a fool. You belong to _me_, and you will do as I say."

"I don't belong to you, and hitting me won't change that," Brandon shot back. "Did you _really_ expect it to be that easy?"

Daichi suddenly grinned once more. "I did not, but I thought to give you fair chance before we do things my way. Takashi-sama treated the Shitenno gently, different than I would have. With you, this is going to be enjoyable."

"Says the giant thug," Brandon muttered.

Brandon had a split second of warning before Daichi drove the full force of his fist into his stomach, allowing him to instinctively tighten his abdominal muscles and release a rapid breath to prevent himself from being winded. By the way Daichi's brow furrowed, it was clear the man was surprised.

_He figured he'd hurt me more than that._

"You have learned from the demons," Daichi asserted.

Brandon's eyes flashed with new life. _You'll learn a few more things this time too, I guarantee it,_ he fumed silently.

Daichi looked amused once more. "You wish to speak, James, I see it. Do not hold out on me."

"You've got your terminology crossed," Brandon snapped.

From Daichi's blank look, he could tell he'd stumped the man.

"The Shitenno aren't the demons," Brandon clarified for him. _I shouldn't be altering the perception that's already in place,_ he thought at the same time. _I won't be the one to tell them that the turtles aren't possessed by the Guardian Spirits of the Earth._

"You speak of the Shitenno as if _they_ are the evil ones," Brandon went on. "But that's the opposite of how things actually are. They're responsible for defending people from the likes of _you_. Who're the real demons, Daichi? Who made it their lives' work to profit off the suffering of innocent young women? The only thing the Shitenno are guilty of is shutting down your rotten slave trade."

Daichi chuckled, much to Brandon's surprise. "The Shitenno will pay for that interference, and many more will suffer _because_ of them."

Brandon refused to ask what Daichi meant by that. "Why come here now, Daichi?" he asked boldly. "What are you doing in the United States? Do you think you have a chance of catching or killing the Shitenno on your own? You're fooling yourself."

Daichi hovered within inches of him, and Brandon forced his body to relax, lest another blow was coming. Brandon exhaled softly as the man dropped the hand with which he'd drawn back to strike him. The air had no sooner left his lungs than Daichi's fist flashed toward him, catching him in the right eye.

Amidst the burning sensation that made it impossible to see, he felt Daichi lingering over him.

"You brave now, James, but that will change. I have plans for _you._"

It would have been impossible to describe how cold the statement left Brandon feeling.

"I will not keep you waiting," Daichi said. "You will find I have not much patience."

Brandon tensed as Daichi rose to his feet, and called out in Japanese to someone else. Two more men appeared so quickly that he had to think they'd been waiting nearby for this purpose.

Daichi nodded at the warriors and shot Brandon another smile. "It is time you met everyone, I think."

His breath caught in his chest as the warriors lifted him from the chair, and pulled him in the direction toward which Daichi was leading into the darkness.

_This isn't going to end well._


	9. Frustrated

As Mike settled into his seat, he was grateful that Raphael had insisted on taking the wheel of the Slider. A strong weariness had settled over the orange-masked turtle now that the initial adrenaline rush was wearing off. His head was beginning to pound with a vengeance, and he felt like he could barely see straight.

_Dude, I didn't even realize I was this tired. I'm sure it's just the interrupted nights with Nate that are affecting me. No way is this related to what happened _last_ year._

Michelangelo had strong memories of the respiratory issues that had nearly spelled certain death for him. He'd been dealing with the sickness at the same time as the earthquake had hit New York City and forced his family's evacuation. The two combined events had proved more overwhelming than anything Mike had ever previously experienced.

Under ordinary circumstances, he would have probably enjoyed their extended stay in the mountains of North Carolina, but finding out that he was dying had put a small damper on things.

_I'm still here_, he reminded himself. _And there didn't seem to be any hope for me then._

The addition of Caleb Wells to their medical team had given them their first ray of hope in being able to fight the genetic condition that would have eventually wiped out _all_ of the turtles. He and his brothers each possessed the same genetic defect that had killed their Sensei years prior, in which the mutation of stem cells in the lungs caused them to attack the air sacs.

_Caleb was the expert we needed to get us through it. I'm happy he followed us to New York, but he sure isn't getting much of a chance to settle in. I told him that life with us is complicated, but I figured he'd at least have time to move into the new place in Chelsea before the sky started falling again._

Caleb had been staying with Marcus and April since arriving in the city, and his two border collies had been residing underground with the turtles until the doctor could get into his new home.

_We would never have asked Caleb to come with us, but having him onboard to help Doc and Marcus definitely isn't a bad thing. Between the three of them, Donny has to be okay. He has to._

The sound of Luke's breath quickening drew Mike's attention. The doctor was pumping the bag valve mask with which he'd replaced Donatello's oxi fiercely, as the man threw a look over his shoulder at Raphael.

"Raph, I need you to step on it!" Luke ordered. "His heart rate is too low, and I'm worried about the possibility of cardiac arrest. Get us home!"

"You got it, Doc!" the red-masked turtle returned.

Michelangelo gripped his seat harder, suddenly feeling dizzy in addition to the headache. _Why did it take me so long to get up? My spidey senses were trying to _tell_ me that there was something wrong with Donny! Shell, why didn't I wake up sooner?_

Anger and frustration were boiling over, and he could feel his knuckles turning white from the death grip he had on the bench. Leonardo laid an arm around his shoulders, but Mike didn't feel encouraged.

_I won't be able to settle down until I know Donny's safe, and I've got a bad feeling that still isn't the case._

Mike expected an enthusiastic greeting from the dogs when they arrived, but Molly and Noah were curled up on the floor near the coffee table, and only raised their heads as Leonardo and Raphael led the way inside the Den with Donatello. His brothers and Luke hurried straight for the Lab, and Jenna was immediately on her feet to follow them.

Mike quickly inserted himself between Jenna and the door to the Lab, catching the young woman in his arms to prevent her from running straight inside. "Jen, no," he said apologetically. "There isn't time. The docs have to get to work, and they're gonna be doing stuff that you don't need to see."

"But he—"

"_No_, Jenna," he said more emphatically.

The raven-haired woman was strong, but she was no match for the turtle's muscles.

Mike pulled her back toward the couch. "We have to let the docs do their thing first, sis," he said reassuringly. "They'll come out to talk to us when they can. Until then, we have to stay out of their way."

The desperate look Jenna gave Mike almost broke the turtle where he was standing, but he reminded himself that it was for her own good. Leonardo and Raphael backed out of the Lab a moment later, and Mike breathed a sigh of relief that he wouldn't be forced to try to explain everything they'd found by himself.

Mike gave Jenna a wary look as she sank onto the couch in between April and Karina, but the woman didn't appear to be on the verge of making another break for it. He waited for Leonardo to say something, but the blue-masked turtle silently stood his ground at the head of the room.

"Leo, what on earth is _happening_?" Jenna demanded.

Leo took a deep breath as he shifted from one foot to the other. "The situation is complicated," he said. "The docs need time to get a handle on things. I don't have anything I can really tell you right now, except that Don has a serious head injury and it needs prompt attention."

"Why can't I see him, Leo?" Jen sounded as plaintive as Michelangelo had ever heard her.

"Jen, I can't explain it properly, but his particular issues are life-threatening," Leo said carefully. "The docs have to act right now to save him."

Jenna trembled visibly. "But, I thought…you said…Leo, you were the ones who found him, you have to know _something!_"

"Jenna, head injuries can be dangerous, especially when they're reoccurring. Donny's seen a lot of action and…" Leonardo trailed off. "I can't explain this. We just have to wait."

Jenna's gaze traveled back to the door of the Lab, and Karina took a hold of her arm.

"Jen, they're the experts," Karina said softly. "Let them do what they do best, and I'm _sure_ they'll tell us something soon."

The "scared doe" look in Jenna's eyes was painful for Michelangelo to see. He wanted nothing more than to offer another positive remark, but he couldn't muster the fake sincerity. Mike was just as frightened as the young woman, maybe even more so because he'd actually _seen_ Donny.

"Where is everyone else?" April asked Leonardo.

"Did anyone ever hear from Bran?" Karina added before Leonardo could answer a word.

"Doc said that Kat talked to the airline, and your brother's plane took off a couple of hours ago," Leo replied. "My guess is that Brandon is on his way to Port Royal, but your sister and Tim were going to check his apartment to be sure. After that, they're heading over to pick up Reina and your Mom, Jenna."

Jenna nodded vaguely, as if she was in a daze. "Somebody remember to wake me up when this nightmare is over," she murmured.

"There are positive things going on, Jen," Calley offered. "At least Donny is home and in good hands. It seems like one of the hardest parts is already over."

Michelangelo swallowed hard, fighting the urge to contradict his sister-in-law. _Shell, I don't think it's gonna be that easy, not the way Doc was acting._

The orange-masked turtle was still standing when Luke unexpectedly came out of the Lab. Mike saw a flash of hope in Jenna's eyes, and he only prayed that it was warranted.

"I only have a minute," Luke said evenly, his straight tone giving nothing away. "I had to let all of you know that you won't be hearing from us for a while. We need to operate, and I can't tell you how long it's going to take."

Both Jenna and Leonardo started to speak at the same time, and Luke held up a hand to stop them. "Donny suffered a severe rise in intracranial pressure, which puts him at a high risk for brain damage. There are a couple of different procedures we're considering that could curb the rise in pressure, and we'll figure out which one to go with while we're stabilizing him. I just wanted to warn you that this isn't going to be a short term event."

Jenna leaped to her feet. "Doc, Leo told us that his injuries are life threatening. What are Donny's chances? If this operation goes well, will he be okay?"

Luke squirmed awkwardly in a way that suggested that he didn't want to answer the question. "I can tell you that surgery is his best hope for survival."

"Doc, I want to know exactly what we're facing," Jenna said insistently.

"No, you don't," Luke said bluntly. "You think you do, but you're better off letting me tell you things as they transpire. I'm sorry. I'll be back as soon as I can."

The blond doctor returned swiftly to the Lab, and Mike reached for Jenna's shoulder.

"You heard him, Jen," Mike said more bravely than he really felt. "They're doing the surgery, and it means Donny's gonna have the best shot at making it. He lasted long enough for us to get to him, and he made it all the way home. There's no reason to think the worst."

"It feels like I have _every _reason to think the worst, Mikey." Jenna's voice wavered.

Mike's arm tightened around her as he felt Jenna tremble, and he guided her toward the couch again. "It sounds like Doc just doesn't want to scare you, Jen. If he knew something for sure, he would have told us. But he doesn't know, so he doesn't want to torture us with the possibilities," he suggested.

"It's torture either way." Jenna choked. "I can't believe I fell asleep. I was waiting for him to come home. I should have _kept_ waiting!"

"Jenna, it is _not_ your fault that Don's hurt," Rebecca spoke up before anyone else could. "Don't fall into this trap. You had nothing to do with what happened out there tonight."

As Jenna sank into the couch cushions she pressed her face into her hands in a futile attempt to camouflage rising tears. April and Karina huddled closer to Jenna on the couch, offering only silent support while they waited together.

Mike felt a hand brush the back of his head, and turned to see Rebecca. The young woman hadn't bothered with settling into a seat of her own. He held her uncertain gaze, sensing the questions she wanted to ask, but dared not to in front of Jenna.

"Are you okay?" Becky asked finally.

Mike shrugged. "I don't know, Beck."

The curly-haired woman crossed in front of him, and he gathered her in his arms.

"I'm scared," he said into her ear.

"So am I," she whispered back. "But we can't allow ourselves to lose sight of hope either."

A little over an hour had passed when there was a knock at the door, and Raphael bolted to answer it. Timothy walked in with Victoria, and Katherine brought up the rear with a sleeping Reina.

Jenna rose to meet her mother, and Mike had a small sense of relief as the young woman rested her head against Victoria's shoulder.

_I'm glad the rest of them got here. Jen really needs her mom right now._

"Why don't you let me take Reina, _hermana_?" Karina offered. "I can put her upstairs with Olivia."

"Wait," Katherine said quickly. "I need to know what's going on first. What happened with Don and Brandon? Luke said something about a fight."

Mike watched as several pairs of eyes seemed to look away from Kat at once.

Karina cleared her throat. "Kat…Brandon found out that Donny has been searching for our father, and he went a little ballistic."

"_What_?" Kat's tone immediately rose. "But _I'm_ the one who put him up to it! Didn't Don tell Brandon that I asked him for help?"

"No," Leo answered. "Donatello told _us_, but that wasn't until after Bran had stormed off, without his phone."

Katherine swore. "You guys, I'm sorry! I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I feel like it's all my fault!"

"Everyone's going to try and take the blame for this," Leonardo said smoothly. "But it isn't going to help matters, and it simply isn't true. Don was attacked. I can try and say it was my fault because I didn't go with him. Jen would like to blame herself because she fell asleep. Raph wishes _he'd _volunteered to go instead of Don, and I bet Mike is even blaming himself for not waking up sooner.

"We all need to realize how pointless this is. We could feel guilty until the end of time, but it won't change the fact that none of us are directly responsible for what happened," he finished. "Now…did you find anything at Bran's apartment?"

Kat shook her head. "We didn't stay long, but it looked untouched, and everything was locked up. I didn't see any luggage, so I'd say he caught his flight."

Leonardo sighed. "Then we won't be able to contact him, because he doesn't have his phone."

"What about Heff?" Raphael asked.

Leo shook his head. "I'd rather not call Greg until we have something certain to tell him. I think we need to wait."

Michelangelo huffed inwardly as his shoulders slumped. _Waiting. My favorite thing_.


	10. Prognosis

Leonardo felt himself zoning out a little as minutes turned into an hour, and one hour turned into two. No one moved from the living area, not until Nate stirred on the second floor. Mike was swift to rise, but Rebecca was even faster to wave him back down.

"I'll grab Nate and bring him downstairs," she told him.

Mike sank back into a chair as if gravity itself were against him. Leonardo could only bring himself to gaze at his youngest brother for a few moments. Raphael was easier to watch. The red-masked turtle had an outwardly stoic expression, and Leonardo knew that he was only trying to put on a strong front for everyone else.

_The same thing I'm trying to do_, Leo thought ruefully.

He was drawn to the stairs as Rebecca descended with the blanket-wrapped baby turtle. The two-month-old was fussing shrilly, as if he'd been crying for a while.

"Mommy's so sorry, baby," Becky murmured soothingly, as she carried Nate toward the kitchen.

Mike got up to follow her, and Leonardo rose to stretch his legs too.

"Goin' somewhere, Fearless?" Raphael asked with a slight edge.

Leonardo recognized the glint in his brother's eyes, and shook his head. _We'd all love to know _who_ did this to Don. It would be even better if we could catch them. But it has to be daylight now, and that's not the ideal time for us to start hunting down more clues as to what happened._

Leonardo had another rush of regret that threatened to overwhelm him. _He could have died on the surface all by himself, and I wouldn't have been any the wiser. We _have_ to change the way we do things. This was too close of a call. _

"Leo?" Raphael gave him a quizzical look. "What are you doing?"

The blue-masked turtle was suddenly aware that he'd never answered his brother's question. "I'm not going anywhere," he replied. "I just needed a break from sitting."

"You're probably going to want to sit for a little longer," Luke called from the doorway of the Lab.

Leonardo released a sharp breath as he turned. "Can you wait a second for Mike and Becky, Doc? I think they were only getting Nate a bottle."

Luke nodded, folding his arms across his chest in a gesture that almost indicated he was cold. Leonardo studied the man closely, attempting to get a read on his state of mind. Luke's expression was stone-hard so that Leo couldn't decipher anything, except that the man _didn't_ want him to know what he was thinking.

Leonardo found himself wondering what Marcus and Caleb were doing in the Lab, while the rest of the room waited for Michelangelo and Becky to return. Leo looked away from an emotionless Luke, choosing to focus on the kitchen door instead. Mike was holding Nate when he came out, and looked surprised to find the room in silence with Luke standing by.

"Uh…Beck, c'mon in here. I think we're holding things up."

The pair quickly found their seats, and Leonardo fixed his attention on Luke once more. For an instant, he thought he saw the man falter. It was nothing more than a small shudder that coursed through Luke's frame, but it struck a loud chord of fear inside Leonardo.

"Talk to us, Doc," Leo requested.

The doctor surveyed the room wordlessly, and Leonardo noticed the way he hesitated longer on Jenna. The raven-haired woman was seated close to Victoria, and her mother already had an arm around her. The room became an incredibly uncomfortable place in the span of time that it took Luke to speak.

"I'm sorry to keep all of you in suspense," he said quietly. "I know it isn't easy to wait, but this part isn't easy either. If all of you will let me get through this without interruption, I'll answer your questions to the best of my ability at the end.

"Donatello suffered a depressed skull fracture, which in turn led to a dangerous rise in intracranial pressure and a herniation of the brain. What that basically means in English is that his brain started to shift because of the pressure, and um…This is where it gets hard. All that pressure inside his skull built up on his brain stem, causing one of those worst case scenarios that we always try to avoid.

"The procedure that we performed on Donny is considered kind of radical, but it was absolutely necessary in his case, due to the danger of the blood supply being completely cut off to his brain. We did a decompressive craniectomy, which involved removing a portion of his skull called the bone flap. It allows the brain more room to swell safely without causing further internal damage. We've preserved the bone flap so that we can replace it once his intracranial pressure is under control."

"Then it's _not_ under control yet," Leo said, forgetting the need to wait to ask questions.

"No," Luke said simply. "It could be hours, or even days before his ICP is normal. Preventing damage to the brain stem is absolutely key. You could think of it as the brain's relay station with the body. The brain stem is in charge of vital control centers, ranging from respiratory and cardiovascular functions, to the operation of all our involuntary muscles.

"We already know that his brain stem has been affected, but I can't tell you how severely it's been damaged. It's very hard to predict the nature of this type of injury in the first week because of swelling and bruising. We won't know the true extent of how badly he was hurt until the swelling comes down. Then we'll be able to see any residual abnormalities."

"So what's going on right now?" Jenna asked. "Can I see him?"

"Yes, Jen, I just need a couple more minutes with you first." Luke steadied his voice with difficulty. "He's in critical condition, and Marc, Caleb and I will be alternating with him around the clock. Donatello is on full life support, and we aren't receiving any reactivity from his end."

"Reactivity?" Becky repeated. "What does that mean? Is he in a coma?"

Luke nodded shakily, and Leonardo picked up the subtle signal of the man weakening.

"It's still a waiting game then?" Raphael asked. "Nothing to do but sit back until he starts getting better?"

Luke took a very deep breath. "We're not sure. He might get better over the next couple of days, or he could deteriorate further. Some contusions of the brain continue spreading once they've started."

"You think he could get worse?" Mike asked flatly.

"It's a possibility," Luke said the most quietly yet.

Jenna slowly got to her feet. "Doc, how much do you know that you're _not_ telling us?"

"Jenna, it's not that sim—" he started.

"I don't need anyone to lead me on or sugar coat things, Luke. I need the facts, so I can be prepared either way." Jenna's voice broke up as she finished, but she fought for control. "You've got to reach deep inside yourself and pretend I'm some other faceless patient so you can give me _real_ answers."

Luke looked around the room bleakly one more time before his gaze became unfocused. "I can't pretend you're a stranger, Jen. I can't act like it's not ripping my heart out to be forced to say what needs to be said."

The tremor that had been barely visible became much more pronounced, and it looked like the doctor was going to be physically ill. Leonardo hesitated from rising no longer, urging Luke into the chair he'd been using. He backed away from Luke to give the man air to breathe.

"You have to tell us what you know, Doc," Leo said. "We're all adults here, and no one wants to be coddled. You shouldn't be forced to bear the weight of this silently either. We need the whole truth."

"The truth?" Luke's voice was strained. "The truth is his outlook is poor at this point. His ICP rose too high, and we still haven't been able to lower it. He might not wake up at all. If the damage was too severe, he could suffer brain death. Even though the machines could keep him artificially alive, he wouldn't actually be there. The truth is that even if he does wake up, he may have suffered irreversible brain damage that could change him forever. And that's everything I know right now, as if all of you really wanted to hear it."

Tears escaped Luke with the admission, and Leo sensed he was trying to hold back the floodtide.

"I'm sorry, everyone," Luke continued. "I wish I could do better. I wish I could tell you something, _anything_ for certain. But I can't. The only thing that I can assure you of is that we're doing everything we possibly can, and we're going to keep doing it."

No one said anything immediately. Leonardo stood rigidly with his legs locked in place, warring with his own emotions. His first mission was to control his reaction to prevent compounding an already delicate situation. He had to take several breaths before he could approach Luke.

"Doc, you can't do anything more than your best. No one expects the impossible from you. You can't look at this as _your_ failure."

Luke gripped his forehead as he focused on the floor. "As close as we've been, so many times…I never wanted to believe we'd be _here_."

"Doc," Leo said more strongly. "You're not failing us."

Luke climbed to his feet. "I'm sorry. I just need a minute, I'm…"

Katherine jumped up, and quietly slipped her hand through his. "It's all right, Luke. C'mon."

There was little fight left in the hollow man as Katherine pulled him toward the kitchen. "I shouldn't leave him," he protested weakly.

"Come," Kat repeated, refusing to let go of his arm.

Leonardo tore himself away from the scene to look at Jenna. The woman was quiet, though tears were hovering at the surface. "Jen, he said you could see Donny. I'll go with you. You don't have to face this alone."

"Leonardo, let me." Victoria's voice was as soothing as a beautiful song to the ear.

The blue-masked turtle stood aside for the two women, but couldn't help watching as they entered the Lab. He had to force himself to turn his attention back on everyone else. "There are a lot of things we could do right now," he said slowly. "But there's one thing we can't do yet. Donny's not lost. He could have died before we reached him, but he didn't. He could have passed away before the docs operated to help control the pressure, but he's still here. All hope isn't lost. Grieve if you need to, but all hope isn't lost."

Leonardo paused for a long moment. "If you need to separate yourselves, I understand. But not for long, okay? We need each other too much. That's the glue that will keep us from falling apart, no matter what happens. I know that no one feels like resting, but it's going to be a necessity. The docs sticking with Donny around the clock means _they're_ going to need support too, and we have to give it to them. The temptation might be to retreat, but we can't do that." Leonardo fixed his red-masked brother with a pointed look. "We won't make it unless we do it together."

April sat up straighter on the couch. "There will be plenty of time to grieve later if we have to. I think it's better to try and stay as positive as we can, as long as we have the option."

"She's right," Calley added her voice tentatively. "We can't act like it's over. Donny's in the best hands he could be…and at the end of the day, the decision doesn't rest with us." Leo noticed his wife give Rebecca a meaningful glance.

Becky nodded as she hooked an arm through Mike's. "Even if we can't put trust in what the docs may or may not be able to do, medically speaking, that doesn't mean Don is without hope. Just the opposite. Jim Laffoon said that if you've been reduced to God being your only hope, you're in a good place."

Rebecca looked around at the circle of faces. "In one sense, hope can't even truly be realized for what it is until everything _seems_ hopeless. That's when it becomes the strength that we have to hold on to."

Leonardo nodded. "Let's not forget that, or become completely discouraged. This isn't over."


	11. Session

***Right, okay...time for deep breath. We're paying Brandon another visit. Word to the wise - you may feel the need to pause at some point. This is one of those chapters...While writing it, I had to stop several times, and remind myself that it was _fiction_. Both my betas struggled with it too. The only comfort I can give you is that this is the worst scene with Brandon that I'm going to depict. It's not the worse thing that _happens_, but the other part...well, more on that later.**

* * *

><p>Daichi was <em>not<em> in a good mood when he woke up that morning. As much as his head hurt, however, he wouldn't consider sleeping any longer. _I rested long enough as it is. I need to see how my instructions concerning James have been carried out._

A deep sense of disappointment reminded the man of his failure to control the Shitenno the night before, though he'd actually accomplished what he had set _out_ to do. _I cannot believe we lost the demon when he was already in our grasp. I am truly grateful that I said nothing about it to Yukiko. Having James is better than nothing. He will serve as the beginning for gaining dominance over them._

_I don't think the Shitenno are so complicated to figure out. It is clear that they have limitations. They can be hurt, and even killed if Takashi will allow it. _Daichi growled quietly at the thought. _They appear to have much knowledge, and yet they don't know everything._

Daichi snorted as he considered Haruko, the slave that had once belonged to Takashi's deceased son. _She was claimed by the Shitenno as their own. The orange demon insisted that she was a gift that should be protected at all costs. But we had that woman for months in our keep, and I know Shirou did as he pleased with her. The demons did not stand up for her then. They could not find her. It was not until after the woman escaped…_

Daichi's brow furrowed suddenly. _They could not track the woman, at least, not in the beginning. We also caught the Shitenno unaware at that house in Chelsea, and again at the Lab in Okinawa. The blue one, he was surprised to see us. No, they don't know everything. Those times when they were able to track us down, it was only _after_ we already had one of their kind in chains. _

_It makes sense, I suppose. Out of his curiosity over the demons Takashi went too easy on them. He allowed them many opportunities when their spirits could have communicated with the others outside. I guess it is for the best that we did not capture the purple one last night, as much as I want my revenge, and the chance to please Takashi. Attempting to hold it with so few resources at my disposal would not have been wise._

Daichi's mood lifted dramatically with the realization, and at the thought of the time he was about to spend with Brandon. He'd left the prisoner in the hands of his men after an initial assault to "welcome" the man to their current dwelling.

Truth be told, Daichi was proud of the location he'd been able to acquire with so little money in his hands. The situation was far from ideal, but the close quarters with the Club operating directly above them made Daichi feel both daring and shrewd at the same time.

_By placing ourselves in the middle of the action, we make it that much more difficult for the Shitenno to infiltrate. They cannot afford to be seen, nor would they expect us to be in such a place. I think there is some merit in this, and I hope Takashi sees it too._

Daichi approached two alert men who were standing guard over the door to a storage closet. He smiled grimly at the warriors as they bowed their heads in deference. Daichi stepped up to the small window and peered at the shirtless prisoner who was lying on his side.

"_How long have you allowed him to rest_?" Daichi asked.

"_Close to two hours," _one of the men supplied.

Daichi shook his head in disapproval. "_That's too long. I told you, you have to stay on top of him. Did you learn nothing in your time with Takashi-sama?"_

"_We stand ready to learn from _you_, Daichi-san," _the other replied.

Daichi was pleased with the answer, and therefore didn't berate them any further. _That is not how loyalty is won, _he told himself, smiling at the men once more. "_When a person is broken, it is usually not the result of a single session. Breaking someone is a process that should happen gradually, usually over the course of building confrontations. It is not only physical, but mental as well. _

"_You have to be aware of exactly how far you can push your prisoner, without killing him. When a captive has information you want, it's important to create a situation where he desires to die, but is not capable of doing so. You must remove every source of comfort and hope, until he is left with nothing to sustain him. _

"That_ is when an individual breaks. I have seen Takashi-sama do it many times, and he is the true Master. But I managed to pick up many tricks from him, which will help guide me in handling James now. The exercise I am going to engage him in this morning is physical, but I want you to pay heed to the way the mental side will come into play afterward. Lying to a prisoner can be even more demoralizing than injuring him. Are you keeping plenty of ice on hand?"_

The warrior on his left nodded eagerly. _"The freezer is full, for now at least."_

"_Bring me two pitchers of water. I will not begin until you return."_

"_Yes, Daichi-san."_

Daichi didn't stay to watch the guard leave, but opened the door to the storage closet instead. As he ducked inside the room, he noticed Brandon's shoulder blades stiffen at his approach.

_Good. He was not asleep._

"Time to get up, James. My men allowed you too long to rest," he announced.

The younger man didn't speak to him, not that Daichi had expected him to do so. He reveled in the bruises and abrasions that were far more prominent on Brandon's face than they'd been the night before.

_We are off to a good start, but I have a lot of ground to cover._

His captive groaned softly as Daichi cast him over his shoulder without a trace of gentleness. He could have been carrying a sack of grain as far as he was concerned. The man didn't bother struggling as Daichi carried him out into the open room.

Daichi's eyes searched the ceiling, looking for a strong pipe to serve his purpose. When he located one that was large enough, he cast Brandon to the ground and released the manacles pinning his wrists momentarily.

"_Kenta, grab the stool, and then come help me get him into position_," he called to the remaining guard that trailed behind him.

The man retrieved the requested item, and came over to support the captive's frame while Daichi bound his wrists around the pipe.

"_Now let him go_," Daichi instructed. He nodded with satisfaction as the manacles held, and the prisoner was successfully suspended from the pipe. He ran his fingers over the well-defined muscles in Brandon's back, smiling over what he had in mind.

Daichi had no intention of asking the man any questions, not until he had Brandon where he wanted him. He left the stool in place for the other guard, who was coming with the water he'd ordered.

At his motion, the warrior understood what Daichi wanted without the man being forced to speak the command. The guard climbed the stool to get nearer to Brandon and dumped both pitchers of ice water over him. The young man gasped under the cold assault, shivering violently.

"_Do you want more_?" the guard asked Daichi.

"_No, Eiji, that is enough for the moment. Stand back with Kenta, and prepare to learn a lesson from me." _

The leather strap felt at home in Daichi's hands. He didn't normally bother with weapons in combat, but for the purpose of breaking, Takashi-sama had encouraged their use. Over time Daichi had developed a particular fondness for the simplicity of the instrument.

"_Why did I have you soak him first, Eiji?" _he asked importantly.

"_Because the cold can intensify pain?"_

"_You are correct. I am undecided in how far I am going to push our guest today. I am merely going to begin, and see how he fares over a period of a few minutes." _Daichi took a stance behind the prisoner, but continued addressing his men. "_We need have no fear of excess noise, because of the way these walls and ceiling have been insulated. No one will hear him outside, so we don't have to take extra steps to muffle him."_

Without any further words, Daichi laid the strap across the man's back with a powerful _snap_, smirking at the painful response it elicited. He didn't miss a beat as he struck the leather across his back three more times in succession. He felt his blood lust pulsing with every blow he delivered. Daichi fed off the pain he inflicted, and was close to whipping himself into a full blown frenzy.

He'd been at it for over ten minutes before he forced himself to take a breath. _Takashi-sama has always been there to slow me down in times past, but I have to control _myself _here. This man is surely not as strong as one of the Shitenno, so I ought to check how he is faring._

Brandon's body was limp, and Daichi could hear him heaving for breath. He noted the depth and width of the wounds he'd drawn on the prisoner's back, and circled around front to look the young man in the eyes. His captive swallowed, but maintained steely eye contact with him.

Daichi cracked a smile. _He could go a little longer, easily._

The Asian man raised the strap again, bringing it down across his prisoner's chest. Daichi took a new thrill in _seeing_ the pain etched in Brandon's eyes, and spent a few more minutes unleashing part of the rage that had been building up over a year and a half.

* * *

><p>Brandon was barely aware of his surroundings as someone fussed with the manacles that were chaining his arms to the overhead pipe. He had no control over his body as he was lowered down, and dropped unceremoniously on his stomach. Through the fiery burn of his injuries, he had little time to enjoy the first freedom his arms had experienced since being taken.<p>

He focused on breathing, removing himself from the thought of pain as much as humanly possible. Brandon was still trying to regulate his airway when a foot crashed into his side, and someone yanked him onto his back. Fresh lacerations protested the action fiercely.

"With me, James?" Daichi asked snidely.

Brandon wanted to spit in his face, and if he'd had the energy, he probably would have. He had to settle for glaring at Daichi to partially cover for his persistent fear.

"I can have more water brought if you have need," Daichi offered casually.

Slowly, painfully, Brandon sat up partially on his elbows. "_Van al Infierno_."

Daichi chuckled. "I am needing an interpreter for you, James. I think that is enough for this hour. I am sure you miss your room."

_Not really, no, _Brandon thought regretfully. _But it sure beats dealing with you._

His breath seized in his chest as the two guards jerked him by the arms on some unseen signal, and dragged him backward toward the space that was too small to be considered a real room. Brandon hated giving the men any knowledge that they were hurting him, but he couldn't refrain from reacting painfully to the way they handled him.

_It isn't necessary. They could carry me, the jerks, _he thought crossly_. Then again, am I honestly getting irritated with the bad guys for _acting_ like bad guys? _He grimaced at the thought of the bacteria he was going to pick up through open wounds. _I wonder how long it'll take for infection to kill me if they don't._

Brandon rolled his eyes. _Way to think positive. No more dying talk. The guys will come after me._

When they dropped him in his cell, Brandon figured he had maybe another hour before he'd be bothered again. That belief was corrected when Daichi showed back up at the doorway almost immediately.

"I think we talk now maybe," Daichi said.

"I have nothing to say," Brandon said shortly. _Not true. I've got all kinds of things I'd love to say to your face, but then I'll end up hurting worse than I already am._

"That is what I thought, so I keep this short. I have something to show you, James."

_Could you_ _leave me alone for five minutes? Is that too much to ask? Really?_

Nevertheless, when Daichi rolled a familiar piece of luggage into the room, he craned his neck to see it.

"Why on _earth_ do you have my bag? I guarantee there's nothing in there that you're going to want." Brandon was baffled.

Daichi laughed. "You were to take plane." In a flash, the man held up his boarding pass from the flight he was _supposed_ to have been on.

"What?"

"You leave last night. This is what your _friends_ think."

Brandon stiffened as Daichi's words sunk in. _My God. This can't be happening. _

"So I expect no interruption. There is much to look forward to," Daichi told him.

Brandon felt like the closet was shrinking, becoming even smaller. _No. They have to realize something's wrong. There's got to be something to set them off. Donny's too smart for that, and Leo—_

"You want to hope for them to come, no doubt." Daichi grinned. "But you are in my world, and they see nothing."

Brandon snorted. "You're fooling yourself. When have they failed to catch up with you?"

"You believe in your Shitenno, but they _have_ failed. Haruko is proof of that."

_Why is he bringing Calley into this?_

"The orange demon—"

"He has a name," Brandon interrupted boldly.

"Do I care? As I said, the demon called Haruko a 'gift', but they allow Shirou to hold her for months."

Brandon was tempted to roll his eyes again. _The turtles didn't even know Calley at that point, idiot._

"Many girls went from us to new owners, which the Shitenno never rescued. They _still_ are not found."

Brandon's eyes narrowed. "How do you sleep at night?"

Daichi smiled at him. "It is easy. I don't _care_, James. Nor do I care for you. I will make your life hell, like others the demons cannot see."

_He's wrong. I _know_ he's wrong, but I'm not going to correct him again. Let him think they're not coming. It's only a matter of time before they realize I'm missing._

"You still believe, but that will change. I take pleasure in stealing that hope from you."

Brandon fought to avoid cringing as the man towered over him. Daichi roughly turned him over, twisting his arms together to replace the manacles Brandon hadn't missed. He gasped as Daichi intentionally flexed his right arm at an unnatural angle, and applied painful pressure.

He tried to steel himself against the agony, to remain as impassive as stone, but his body wouldn't cooperate with him. Brandon's eyes watered as Daichi still wasn't satisfied to release his arm. He cried out as he felt a bone snap, and cursed the man loudly under duress.

Daichi finished binding his arms, and his fingers closed on Brandon's hair to force his head up. "I give you time to think, James."

Brandon trembled on the cement. The pain in his arm was canceling everything else out, so that he didn't notice Daichi was gone until he heard the door close.

_Look for me, guys! _Please_ look for me!_


	12. Venting

Raphael was finding hidden reserves of energy that he'd never realized existed. The disrupted night of sleep and the stress of searching for Donny and waiting for news wasn't making a dent in his unflagging assault on the punching bag.

Over the years, he'd taken to physically venting his emotions less and talking more, but no words could relieve the amount of rage built up inside of him. Raphael had lost track of time and the number of blows. He'd been pacing himself slightly so as not to destroy his sparring opponent or tire himself out quickly. That translated into giving way to a controlled burn, rather than an explosion that would then fizzle out.

Raphael's main objective through the entire workout was not to allow himself time to think or a chance to beat himself up, which is exactly what he _wanted_ to do. I'm_ the one who found the dang phone! Why didn't I take it back to the surface myself? Why'd I let Donny play the martyr? He went out of his way to help Kat, got reamed out by Brandon, and all I did was sit back and tell Donny that Bran might have had a point._

_Screw that, man, Don was only trying to help, and he protected Kat at the same time! He completely took the fall like it was his own idea. I should have told Donny it wasn't his fault. Shell, I'd give _anything_ to rewind a few hours!_

The red-masked turtle angrily swiped at sweat that was running into his eyes, growling in frustration as his fervor against the punching bag suddenly increased. The weighted bag was truly being tested now, tasting the burden of fury as it was unleashed in a white hot flash.

_It's not supposed to go down this way! How many times have we said it? If we go down, we do it together. That's the way we always wanted it, or at least I did. My fear has never been about dying. It's being left behind without somebody else._

An unholy yell left his mouth as his full-fledged assault on the punching bag turned lethal. The steel rings that provided support for the bag gave out, snapping in a fashion that suggested they'd already bent under the stress of his continued attack. Raphael watched the punching bag plummet to the mat, noting the sand spilling from a seam with regret.

"Now that it's dead, will you take a breather?" Karina asked evenly.

Raphael was startled, though he wouldn't have admitted it. Inwardly he wondered how long the Latin woman had been watching him in the dojo, but he maintained a hardened exterior as he turned to face her.

"I have to do _something_, Karina. It's either vent here, or find the punks who did this so I can vent on _them_!" The words came out breathlessly as his heart continued to race from his frenzied finale.

"Raph, I _know_, okay? I understand this is your method for dealing with things. But you're also shutting me out, and that's not a habit I'm going to let you pick up. I'll fight tooth and nail to get back inside of your head."

The turtle sighed heavily. "You'd have to fight tooth and nail to get _out_ of it, Kari," he said sheepishly, now faintly embarrassed at the display he'd put on for her. _I used to think there was nothing better than unleashing raw power, as if it equaled complete freedom. It doesn't feel that way now. It seems like I'm only thinking of _me_._

Raphael shifted uncomfortably on his feet, waiting for her to speak. Surely Karina needed to chide him in some way for the shell-head he'd been. Instead the bronze-haired woman was standing quietly, not relaxed, but neither attacking.

"Aren't you gonna say anything?" he asked.

"I want to help you, Tortuga, I'm just not sure how."

"You could start by beating me over the head for only caring about myself."

"I don't expect you to be able to think straight right now, Raph." Karina came forward, brushing fingers over his shoulder. "Can we sit down? I think you got your workout for the day in."

Raphael rolled his eyes at the ruined punching bag. "I controlled it for a while, but the temper still won out in the end. Some things won't ever change."

The red-masked turtle leaned against the wall and sank to the floor on the mat, rather than sitting down on the bench. Karina followed his example, drawing her legs up underneath her on the ground.

Raphael shivered as the intensity of the exercise faded, leaving him with the crushing reality of his grief. He couldn't bring himself to speak, and Karina stayed silent as well. By the way the woman was fidgeting on the mat, the turtle knew she was only biding her time.

"Kari, just fire away, huh?" he encouraged. "No sense in holding out on me."

The young woman smoothed hair behind her ear absent-mindedly as she reached for his arm with her other hand. "Seeing you take out the punching bag reminded me of something, Raph. Another night years ago when I caught you venting."

"You might have to be a little more specific, Kari."

"You won't remember it," she said quietly. "It happened not long after I met you, during the whole amnesia episode."

"Well, the good news is I'm the same guy whether I'm inhabiting my own head or not," he said tongue-in-cheek.

"You were such a violent force that night, it scared me. I almost didn't interrupt you, but part of me felt like I _had_ to. You were cutting your brothers off completely, whereas with me—"

"I was an honest, open teddy-bear?"

"I wouldn't go that far," she said dryly. "But I ended up realizing something about you that night. Venting isn't just about anger for you – it's an escape. It's the place you naturally run when you come up against something you don't know how to fight. The problem is that after your energy is burned and the workout is finished, you're left with the same questions and feelings that you started with. The momentary release doesn't provide you any kind of a lasting solution."

"I _told_ you that you're in my head, Kari." Raphael's gaze was unfocused as it traveled through empty space. "It feels good while I'm at it, but afterward there's nothing to do but crash back down to Earth. I don't know why I let Don go last night. I don't. I was probably being selfish, wanting some more time alone with you while Liv was sleeping. I never should have handed off that phone."

"Raph, nothing good can come from that line of thinking. It's natural to feel guilty, as if the entire night's events could have been avoided by changing one small decision. But the truth is that none of us knows what really happened, and it's already done. You can't hold yourself responsible any more than the others should."

"It ain't really a choice for me, Kari."

The woman stroked his cheek so softly that he barely felt her hand on his skin. The turtle turned to her, unable to hide the burden of hopelessness that was weighing him down.

"What is it that your Sensei used to say to Jenna?" she asked. "Something about thoughts being like birds?"

"Yeah," he said faintly. "You can't stop 'em from flying over your head, but you shouldn't let them nest there."

Karina nodded. "You can't help the way you feel, Raph, but you don't have to continue feeding these thoughts."

He leaned more heavily against the wall, blinking through the first open tears he'd shed since receiving Donatello into his arms after entering the sewer.

Karina pressed closer to him on the mat. "I know that I'm not much help, Raph, but I'm still here. We're all here, and no one can go through this alone. You heard Leo."

"Aw, shell…Fearless." Raphael immediately began to rise. "He asked me not to do this, and I went ahead and did it anyway. I always end up sticking him in the role of being the adult around here. That's real fair, isn't it?"

"He didn't say you couldn't have any time to yourself, Raph."

"We should get outta here," Raphael replied. "I've been holed up for too long. What's Liv doing? Geesh, I don't even know what time it is."

Karina looked at her watch. "It's a little after 1pm. Olivia will be down for another hour at least."

"I'm sorry for ducking out on you, Kari. One of these days, I'm gonna do the right thing to start with."

* * *

><p>Jenna's eyes were heavy as she hunched over in her chair in the Lab, but she couldn't bring herself to leave the room, and no one had suggested that she do so. As hard as it was to see Donatello completely dead to the world, it was more difficult to consider leaving him.<p>

She wasn't the only one who hadn't budged in the Lab. Luke, Marcus, and Caleb were on the opposite side of the room, huddled around the bank of computers that served as Donny's Control Center. Jenna couldn't hear more than a few words of what they were saying, and she _understood_ even less.

_That's okay, as far as I'm concerned. I've heard all the truth that I can handle for one day._

Tears were temporarily spent, leaving her with empty weariness as her companion. Jenna wasn't inclined to fight the exhaustion, not with the number of other emotions she'd been battling. She almost felt like she was asleep with her eyes open, when a cold nose jerked her back to reality.

The young woman looked down to see one of the border collies nudging her hand. "How did you get in here? You're going to get in trouble, Noah."

Jenna got to her feet stiffly, taking the dog by the collar. The Lab was pretty much the only place into which the dogs were forbidden to go, even though Tiger the cat had managed to supersede the rule through the years. She was about to steer Noah toward the door, when another soft whimper caught her attention.

Jenna looked around, but she couldn't tell from where the sound had come. The jingling of tags from her collar gave Molly away, and the woman spied the missing dog hiding under Donatello's bed.

"Molly, c'mon," she urged the animal. "Come out of there."

The border collie scooted further under, whining in a way that almost broke Jenna's heart. She heard footsteps and looked over her shoulder to see Caleb coming. His reddish hair was nearly standing on end, and his silver-rimmed glasses were hanging from his right hand.

"Here, Jenna, I'll get them out of here," he said apologetically.

"Just handle Molly. I don't think she wants to come out." The young woman meant to continue pushing Noah out of the room, but she was drawn to watch Caleb as he took control of his dog.

"Molly, come," he said firmly. "_Come_."

The dog crawled out from underneath the bed with a pitiful look in her brown eyes.

"Sorry, sweetheart." Caleb nudged Molly toward the door to the living area.

Once both dogs were safely on the other side, Caleb shuddered through a deep breath.

"The poor girl," he said. "Molly really _is_ taken with Donny."

Jenna shook her head. "I feel bad, because I know they don't understand."

"They can sense pain," Caleb said thoughtfully. "And they understand when everything isn't right with their world. I'd let them stay, but Don's infection risk is already high from surgery." The man looked her squarely in the eyes. "How are _you_ holding up? I hate seeing you over here by yourself."

"It's better that way, Caleb. I don't feel like making much conversation. I just want to be with him."

"You look tired, Jenna."

"So do you," she countered. "But you're also the newbie on the block. I'm sure you didn't expect the world to go to hell this quickly."

"I've been told that there's no in-between, that it's either quiet or chaos. I certainly don't feel as prepared as Luke and Marcus, but I'm doing the best I can, and I'll continue to stay that course."

Jenna gazed gratefully at the older man, who'd so recently been their key to saving Michelangelo's life from genetic disaster. The man had immediately given up his life and work in North Carolina to follow the family when they returned to New York City after the earthquake.

Where Caleb was less experienced with hands-on patient care, he made up for it with a unique knowledge of genetics and DNA that had proved crucial in Mike's case.

_We didn't see Mike's salvation coming, _Jenna recalled. _None of us knew if he'd last even a couple more months. But he got his miracle, and it isn't too late for Donny to get his. I have to keep telling myself that._

"Jenna, is there anything I can do for you?" Caleb asked seriously.

"Only what you've been doing," she answered. "I can't ask for anything more. I'll just be here waiting." _Waiting for a miracle_, she added inwardly.


	13. Burden

Leonardo was trying to sleep, but his rest was fitful. He knew that he was keeping Calley awake with his tossing and turning, and the blue-masked turtle made a decision to move to the couch once the woman was fully asleep. He would have to wait a while to make his move, or he'd never escape without her realizing it.

_Calley won't let me abandon the room without a fight. She'd rather lose sleep right along with me._

Leo stared at his watch while he remained still, holding his peace so that Calley would fall into a deeper sleep. _1:17AM. Over 24 hours since Don was attacked, and we don't know anything. We don't know why he was heading toward that building. Was there someone already inside, a victim in trouble? But there was no sign of a struggle inside the place. Well, not unless you count the busted wall of glass._

_Aside from the mess in the kitchen and the run-in someone had with the crate in the living room, the place looked clean. There has to be something else. There must be a reason he got mixed up with that building, and his attacker or _attackers_. We keep assuming there was more than one of them, but we don't know that for sure either._

_It's clear that someone tazed him, which would have made it possible for a lone individual to overpower him. But at what _point_ was he shocked? Don was definitely involved in the party that crashed through the window. The docs found the imbedded glass that proves it. It seems like they wouldn't have _needed_ to taze him to get him under control. There's no evidence to suggest he was moved from where he made initial impact in the kitchen._

_What about the person that was there with him? Why did they leave without finishing Donny off? Are they not killers, or did they get interrupted somehow? What on earth happened up there?_

_1:20. I wish Kat could have gotten a better look around that apartment. But she was in such a hurry to contaminate Don's DNA, and the cops were already on the way. We needed more time, and we didn't get it._

_We may not be able to find the person or persons responsible for this. We might never know why _any_ of it happened. And when exactly are we supposed to contact Greg and Brandon? _The thought made Leonardo feel sick in the pit of his stomach. _They deserve to know. I should have called Greg already, but we've got nothing to say at this point except that Don may not make it. __His ship is still at sea, so he's literally stuck with nowhere to go. It might be better not to extend the torture longer than I have to._

_I know I'm only grasping for excuses to put this off, but I just can't call him yet. I can't. I'd rather have something certain to tell him before I have to deliver this type of news. _

_Or maybe I'll handle it this way. If he calls one of us, we have to be open and honest about what's happened. If not, we wait a little longer for more information. Same goes for Bran, except that we don't _have_ the option of calling him anyway. All we can do is wait for him to get in contact with us. _

_I doubt it will take Brandon that long. He wasn't that angry with Donny; he couldn't have been. He was furious about his dad in general. Bran is probably already in Port Royal, waiting for Greg's ship to get in to harbor._

_This was supposed to be a great opportunity for the two of them to get to work as partners in the field for the first time. The minute they hear about Don, they'll be on the first plane home. God help me, I kind of wish they were here now. 1:25._

Leonardo gazed over at Calley, and realized the woman was breathing evenly, the deepest sound that he'd heard all night. Silently he rose and stole out of the room into the hallway.

A light was on in the living area, and he noticed that there were already two heads huddled close together on the couch. Even from behind, he recognized April and Marcus. Leo started to back away without giving the humans a chance to see him, but April chose _that_ moment to rise from her perch on the couch.

As the woman turned, she automatically noticed Leonardo in the hallway. "Hi, Leo." The red-head's voice was muted, as though she had no power to speak louder.

"April. I was headed for my room, I didn't mean to interrupt—"

"Leo, get over here," Marcus spoke up. "This is _your _home. You're not interrupting."

The blue-masked turtle walked further inside the room, peering closely at the dark-haired man. Marcus' breath seemed more labored than it should have been. Leonardo took in the unnaturally pale hue of Marc's complexion, and noted the inhaler that was sitting on the coffee table.

"Marc, did you have an asthma attack?" he asked instantly.

"A minor one," he admitted. "I'm fine."

"You don't _look_ fine."

"I will be," Marc assured him. "It's just stress contributing to it. I have to keep up with my medication and find a calm place."

"Leo, he's not getting away with anything on my watch," April reassured him.

"Did you even have Doc check you out?" Leo pressed,

"Yes, and it's honestly going to be all right. I just need to _relax_," he emphasized.

"It only happened a little while ago," April filled in. "That's why he still looks and sounds a little ragged."

Leonardo was satisfied with the answers for the moment. "Okay. When are the two of you going to sleep? You're set up in the Lounge, aren't you?"

April nodded. "We're going soon, honest. We only stopped here to…to catch our breath, so to speak."

Leonardo swallowed as he realized he was pushing too hard. "I'm sorry. I tend to get bossier when _I'm_ stressed out." He _wanted_ to ask if there had been any changes with Donatello, but he knew Marc's anxiety levels wouldn't be high enough to cause an asthma attack if things had improved.

"You can't sleep," Marcus stated.

Leonardo nodded. "I have so many questions. Every time I try to relax, I think of a few more."

"You need to find something else to focus on," April said knowingly. "Like a story you know really well, or one of your favorite movies. Fill the void of your mind with something, and those questions won't have room to continue invading."

Leonardo thought about it for a beat. "I could probably do that."

"You could also sit with us for a little while," Marc invited. "Decompress along with me."

"I like that idea too," Leo returned.

"I was about to get us something to drink," April mentioned. "Can I make you some tea, Leo?"

Leonardo managed a faint smile for the woman. _They constantly revert into this natural role of trying to take care of us, even when they're guests in our home_. "You don't need to go to the trouble—"

"Microwaving water isn't trouble, Leo. I'll be back."

The turtle settled into a chair adjacent to Marcus, vowing not to bring Donny up. _Marc is supposed to be getting rid of stress. I'm not going to go and get him riled up again_.

"It's been the day from eternity, hasn't it?" Marcus murmured. "I swear, it feels like it's not going to end."

"All days eventually do," Leo replied. "And yours is coming up quick. You've _got_ to get some sleep, Marc."

The man wheezed softly with the next breath he took. "I'm going to, and so is April. Listen, can we just…Let's step outside this box for a minute."

Leonardo cocked his head. "Step outside the box?"

"Can we escape from the giant elephant in the room that's trying to crush your brother, and focus on something else?"

_Definitely a good idea, for Marc's sake._

"Yeah, sure, Marc. What do you want to talk about?"

The man's brow furrowed in thought, as if he was realizing how difficult this was going to be. "Maybe we could turn on the TV," he muttered finally.

Leo scooped up the remote off the side table, stifling a yawn as he turned on the guide to help them choose a station. He was running through the program list aimlessly, when Marc held up a hand for him to stop.

"There, TV Land," Marcus suggested.

"The Nanny? Are you being serious right now?"

"April loves this show," he countered. "Have you ever seen it?"

The turtle stared at him placidly. "Do I seem like the sort of guy who watches women's programming in the middle of the night? I prefer to be giving the bad guys the run around on my free evenings."

Marcus almost chuckled. "Allow me to show you how the other half lives, Leo."

Leonardo shrugged and flipped the station. He was greeted by the sound of a laugh track, and the sight of two women with big hair inside a richly appointed kitchen. He winced as the dark-haired woman yelled for someone else to come into the room.

"Her voice doesn't grate on you, Marc?"

"It has a certain charm," Marc said.

"I guess, if you're _deaf_." Leo snorted, which was the closest thing to a laugh that he'd experienced all day.

April came out of the kitchen with _two_ mugs in hand, and Leo saw her brighten at the sight of the TV.

"I love this show to death," she admitted, like it was a dark secret. "Fran Drescher always puts me in a better mood."

"She seems like an interesting character," Leonardo said diplomatically, accepting the tea from her.

He quieted himself as he sipped the hot liquid, breathing in the familiar fragrance of one of his favorite blends. Leo glanced at Marcus out of the corner of his eye, grateful to see more color in the man's face than before.

_I still don't know how the docs do it, _he thought fleetingly_. How they keep their heads while they're treating someone they're so close to is beyond me. They have to be some of the strongest people on Earth. I've got to remember to say something to that effect._

Leonardo broke out of thought, as he recalled that he was supposed to be thinking about something else. He folded his arms as the episode continued on TV, and eventually felt a small hint of amusement at the storyline.

"So…the Nanny likes him, and the boss likes her, but neither of them do anything about it?" Leo clarified.

"Not for a long, long time," April replied.

He made a scoffing sound. "What they need are some brothers to _shove _them together."

April chuckled. "Maxwell _has_ a brother actually. Only when the brother came to town, he had eyes for Fran too. He asked her to marry him."

"That's not the type of encouragement I had in mind," Leo said dryly.

His ears perked up as he heard footsteps in the hall, and he looked over his shoulder to see Calley shuffling toward the living area.

"I was wondering where you got to," Calley remarked.

"I thought you were asleep," he said guiltily.

"I was, but I woke up again. You don't think you're the only one struggling to sleep, do you, Leo?"

"Join us," Marc offered. "We're taking a break."

"A break from what?" she asked.

"Everything that's making us crazy," Marcus finished.

The blond woman sat down on the other end of the couch. Calley had been quiet for most of the day. The woman wasn't known for talking a lot, but her silence was much more pronounced than usual.

Calley was gifted with a strong sense of intuition, and Leonardo was in the habit of regularly asking for her "feeling" on a matter. He hadn't bothered asking today, and she hadn't volunteered any information.

The blue-masked turtle got to his feet. "I'm tired, Calley, and I know you are too. Let's try and go to bed again."

She nodded quickly, and he knew he'd made the right choice. "Good night, guys," he said to Marc and April. "Get some rest soon."

His arm settled around Calley's back as they entered their bedroom. "I'm sorry for running out on you. I thought I was keeping you up."

"I'm having trouble sleeping for the same reason you are," she said, troubled. "There are times when I feel like this 'gift' is a curse."

Leonardo sat down on the edge of the bed. "I didn't want to ask you about this earlier. I think I was afraid to hear what you would say. What _are_ you sensing right now?"

"I don't know, Leo, but it's more than Donny. I'm worried about _him_, but…I have a bad feeling in general, like this attack was significant," she said quietly. "I can't explain it, but it seems like this is only the beginning. You guys have to get to the bottom of who attacked Don, because it's important. I don't know why it matters this much, but it does. Every ounce of intuition inside of me is screaming 'danger', and the scope is wide."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't _know_, Leo. That's why I can't sleep or find any peace. I have this terrible sense that something more is coming, and it's going to affect us all."

"The family?"

"The _city_. I'm afraid to find out what this means."


	14. Statistics

Michelangelo was oblivious to the happy screams of Reina and Olivia as they played near his feet on the rug. The little girl and baby turtle were in their element, enjoying the extra playtime they were getting together. Mike normally loved watching their antics, but entertainment was the furthest thing from his mind right now.

He wanted to be with Donatello, but he didn't want to infringe on Jenna's space. At the same time, he felt obligated to help out somehow, and his choices this afternoon had been to either cook or keep an eye on the girls for a while. No matter _what_ Mike was doing, his injured brother was at the forefront of his thoughts.

_I wish there was a way to make time go more quickly; just fast forward through all of this waiting, and find out how it's going to end. Sitting here _wondering_ is about to drive me out of my mind. Then I think about what it must have been like for Donny being out there all alone, and it makes me wanna throw up._

The lamp on the side table to his right flickered and went out. Mike looked around swiftly, to find the babies playing with the power cord and the outlet. "You guys, _no_," he said, more exasperated with himself than with Reina and Olivia. _That's what we need – one of them to get electrocuted because I wasn't paying attention._

The orange-masked turtle got down on the rug, and smiled faintly as Olivia toddled over to him. She squealed with joy over his coming to her level, throwing both arms around his neck as far as they could reach.

"Thanks, Liv, you're a sweet girl." He pulled the baby turtle off the floor, squeezing her in return.

Reina was on his other side in seconds, tapping his arm.

"Hang on, Reina, there's enough Mikey to go around for everyone."

The human girl grabbed the tails of his bandana and yanked so hard that it jerked his head.

"Geesh, kid, take it easy with Uncle Mike, okay? We're having some rough times around here."

"Reina, no," Luke called firmly from across the room.

The blond girl released her grip on Mike's bandana as her father approached.

"That wasn't nice," Luke said seriously. "You need to say sorry to Mike."

"Mi-kee," the two year old repeated.

"Say sorry," Luke encouraged her again.

Reina gently patted the older turtle's arm. "Sa-wee."

Mike chuckled. "She doesn't know her own strength yet, Doc."

Reina turned around to face Luke again and held out her arms to be picked up. The man boosted her onto his side, while he gazed down fondly at Olivia on the floor.

"I think Reina likes showing off for Olivia. These two really get along great," Luke remarked.

"It'll be interesting to see how Nate mixes things up, you know, when he gets bigger." Michelangelo grinned at the thought of his two-month-old, but the smile quickly faded. He could really only be distracted for so long. "Doc, what's going on with Donny? I get the feeling like I shouldn't even ask, but I can't help it. I have to know."

"You're allowed to ask," Luke replied. "You don't ever need to hold back, Mike. We're still battling with his ICP, though you could say we've got the upper hand on it. It's nowhere near as high as it was before, we're just fighting to get it back to a normal range."

"But it's still gonna be days before you know how badly he was hurt?"

"Unfortunately, yes. We have to wait for the swelling to abate."

"Do you have any idea…I mean…how bad are the odds stacked against Donny?"

The man sat down on the couch, adjusting Reina in his lap before replying. "I don't like to get into numbers, Mike. I've seen enough action between you guys and the ER to know that statistics are nothing more than figures. They're not completely reliable when it comes to individual cases. I'm not going to give you some life or death ratio, because I don't even trust myself to gauge it accurately. This is an extraordinary trial, but your brother is an extraordinary guy."

"But like…if you knew something else really bad, you wouldn't hold out on us, would you?" Mike wanted to put the question into more precise words, but couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Mike, if I thought he had no chance of recovery, I'd say so," Luke answered. "I'm not about to give you false hope where there isn't any. I can tell you that things aren't good. It's about as bad as it's ever been for Donny, but it's not over. I won't write him off as a lost cause unt-unless I have to."

Mike brushed his hand over the back of Olivia's head. "I keep going back over that night again and again. I ask myself why the shell I didn't wake up sooner – _why_ did it take me so long to realize that he was in trouble?"

Luke shook his head. "You're looking at this the wrong way. _You're_ the reason Don is alive, beyond anything that Marc, Caleb, or I could have done. The fact is no one else knew anything was wrong. You got the message and acted on it. That's why Donny is still around. He has you to thank for that, Mikey – we all do. That's the truth, and every time you're tempted to blame yourself because you didn't get up fast enough, I want you to remember that."

Mike clenched his eyes shut as tears threatened, and busied himself cuddling Olivia closer to his plastron. The baby cooed as he clutched her more securely, and he opened his eyes to find Liv staring at him. Her expression was curious, almost as if she was trying to figure him out.

"Mikey?" Raphael's call traveled over the stairwell from the second floor. "Is everything cool with the girls? I didn't mean to fall asleep."

Mike cleared his throat softly to steady his voice. "Yeah, sure, Raph. What could go wrong with me around to corrupt the kids?"

The red-masked turtle started descending the stairs to the ground level, and Mike got to his feet to meet him with Olivia.

"Dadada!" Olivia's amber eyes came to life again when she saw her father.

"She must be tired of me torturing her," Mike quipped, but it felt forced.

It was obvious his brother felt the same thing. "You okay, Mike?"

"Yeah, I'm…" He considered saying "fine", but then changed his mind. "No, not really, if I'm being honest here."

Raphael took Olivia from him in one arm and extended the other around his shoulder. "We gotta be real with each other, Mikey. It's okay to feel…"

"Weak?" Mike filled in bitterly. "Powerless? Useless?"

"You ain't none of those things, Bro," Raphael said more gruffly. "You can't help how you feel, but at the end of the day, you have to realize you're anything but frail."

Mike shrugged and glanced back at Luke, who was mutely watching both turtles. "I think I wanna go check on how Jen's doing."

"You don't need permission to look in on Donny too," Luke reminded him.

Raphael gave him a parting pat on the shell as Mike headed for the Lab. When he got to the door he gripped the handle for a few seconds before he was able to turn it. _How is it possible to feel this empty already? It's like I'm trying to prepare myself for the worst up front, but I can't give in to that yet. It might be easier if I just accept that there's not much hope, so I don't have to cling to the dream of a miraculous breakthrough. But Donny's not frail either, and he won't give in if he's got any say in the matter._

* * *

><p>Brandon shivered as strongly as his restraints allowed. He was so cold, he felt like his goose bumps probably had goose bumps. He'd lost track of how many times he'd been soaked to the bone, and how often he'd been interrupted the moment his ravaged body was beginning to relax.<p>

His teeth chattered he as lay on the hard cement of his "prison cell", wondering how much time he had before someone came around to pay him another visit. The cold was at least a distraction from other sensations, and therefore not completely a bad thing.

Brandon was trying not to think about untreated injuries, or the infection that already had to be building inside the wound tracts. He wanted to focus on the shooting pain of his broken arm even less.

_There's absolutely no point in those thugs binding me now. I couldn't mount a defensive if my life depended on it._

As the initial freezing wave from his latest dousing died down, he was assailed by two different kinds of pain in his stomach: one from being kicked repeatedly earlier that day, and another signifying hunger.

It was impossible to tell the difference between day or night in this world of eternal twilight, or to determine how long he'd been here. The brutality of each "session", as Daichi so poignantly described them, seemed to last for hours, but Brandon had a feeling that they were significantly shorter.

The temptation to give in and talk didn't exist. He was no closer to surrendering to Daichi than he'd been when he first arrived, though he was feeling much less like fighting.

_How long has it been? Do the guys even know I'm gone? Are they on their way to get me? They don't let people down. _The memory of Daichi's words rang in his ears that no one would be able to tell he was missing. _The guys are better than that. No one's going to outsmart them._

A bad cramp twisted through his stomach, making it hard to breathe. Brandon groaned against the gag that had been replaced earlier that day. There seemed to be no real purpose for the duct tape, except for making him feel uncomfortable.

_That _is_ the purpose, _he thought morosely_. Anything that can make me more miserable, they're going to do it. I'm still here though. I may not be able to resist physically, but they won't break my mind. They won't._

The cramped space and constant darkness were getting to him, though he'd never been particularly claustrophobic. Brandon had soothed himself the best way he knew how, refusing to give in to the feeling that the walls were closing in on him.

_They're playing off the wrong fear, _he thought ironically_. If they really want to torture me, they need to take me up in a plane with no way down. _

Being the butt of his own joke made Brandon feel more like himself, and less like the wounded animal that was instinctively trying to emerge as he dreaded the closet door being opened again. _Maybe they'll leave me alone for a little longer this time. Maybe they'll be busy with something else._

Brandon tried to count the passing minutes, feeling no freedom to release the tension in his muscles. _Is there anything worse than just lying around waiting for the next "session" to start? I should be sleeping while I can. Instead, I'm torturing _myself_. But this won't last forever – it's temporary, _he reminded himself.

Those words had become his rallying hope over the indiscernible amount of time that he'd been here. _I'll last for as long as it takes. The guys will come. They _will_. I bet Kat would even insist on coming with them. I'd pay big money to watch her kick some tail to kingdom come._

Brandon was drawn out of thought by a strange vibration, which he'd already felt a number of times since being returned to the closet. The very first time he'd noticed the sensation it had sent him into a near panic, as he feared they were experiencing another earthquake. Within a short time he'd realized that the vibration was coming from _above_ him, and not below.

_So it's definitely not an aftershock or anything like that. It's still weird though._

The odd waves lasted for what felt like hours at a time, only to abruptly fade away for quiet moments. It was yet another small distraction with which to occupy his mind so he didn't have to think about pain or what the sadistic men would do to him next.

_It's not even fair to call them crazy. I swear there's nothing wrong with Daichi's mind, except that he's completely freed himself from the constraints of having a conscience. It's amazing to think that someone can go around doing whatever they please, with no backlash from guilt. Whereas the guys beat their brains out trying to help people, but still feel like it's never enough. There has to be a middle ground here somewhere._

Brandon shuddered as he tried to shift his locked arms, swearing at the pain that coursed through his right one. He hated himself for the emotion that threatened. _Have to stay strong, be firm with myself. Don't lose it._

The metal door jarred open, and his heart sank in his chest.

"You awake, James?" Daichi's guttural voice greeted him.

Brandon inwardly cursed the man's name as Daichi rolled him onto his back, crushing his injured arm beneath him.

"Good, very good. I am glad you are up, James, because it is time for the next…What do you call it? Phase?"

_I know I don't want to hear this._

Daichi reached down to tear the tape off his mouth. "You will not forget this night, James. Takashi-sama is the true Master, but I learn from him."

"You won't win, you giant lug." The words didn't come out as strongly as Brandon had wanted, but he continued. "They're gonna get you. It's only a matter of time."

Daichi chuckled. "Be concerned for _your_ time, James. I hoped you would not break easily, so it would come to this."

Brandon held his breath as Daichi carried him across the open room, walking further than he had in times past. He could see a small overhead light illuminating the corner of the cavernous space.

_More beating? More whipping? What's it gonna be?_

As they got closer, the sight of an inverted table hit him like a punch in the face, and Brandon actually struggled in Daichi's arms.

"Yes, you know this, do you?" Daichi grinned. "Your country uses it too. You can make this easy, James. Just answer questions. Is that so bad?"

Real terror lit in Brandon's mind. _He can't make me talk. I don't know how long I can keep my mouth shut, but I guarantee he won't get another word of _English_ out of me._

* * *

><p><strong>*Just popping in for a quick moment, and popping back out before Brandon can catch up with me. The rescue party will be coming sooner than later. I promise. 'kay, bye.<strong>


	15. Missing in Action

***If you're familiar with Refuge, you're about to be reunited with a certain someone who had a very brief part to play in the fic, after being rescued himself. Kelley will have a slightly larger role in this fic as it progresses. Once you enter their world...it's sure hard to sit on the outside.**

* * *

><p>Greg Heffernan easily blended in with the other tourists and families as they piled off the cruise ship at the harbor. There was nothing to set him apart from the other Americans around him; he looked just like another vacationer disembarking in Jamaica for a little sightseeing.<p>

But while his traveling companions were excitedly seeking out their next activity, Greg was only looking forward to reconnecting with his people and catching up with Brandon. It had been a long time since he'd done undercover work, and he wasn't enjoying the other two Agents alongside whom he'd been working.

_Too much like _I_ used to be, _he thought ruefully_. They're out carousing and drinking when they get the chance, and they don't like taking "no" for an answer from me. I can't wait to get Bran by my side. It'll be a new experience for us to work together professionally, but it's nothing we haven't done in secret, _he added with amusement.

In his mind's eye, Greg recalled images of locations he'd closely studied as he quietly found his way through the marketplace on the other side of the docks. He ignored vendors touting their products as he felt his way around the direction he needed to go.

As Greg turned off a crowded street to continue toward the remote headquarters where others from his team were posted, he noticed a tall figure leaning against a brick building. It felt like the man was watching him, and the stranger even stood up straighter as Greg got closer to him. He stiffened for the possibility of a conflict, but was surprised when the man removed his ball cap.

Greg was extremely confused by the sudden appearance of his boss. "Sir? I didn't know _you_ were coming down here."

Matthew Kelley smiled. "Man sits behind a desk too long, he starts to forget important things." He motioned with his head for Greg to follow him, and the two passed out of sight between storefronts.

"How's it going, Heffernan? How's the trip been so far?"

"It's been productive," Greg allowed. "I'm ready to pick up Brandon, though. His Spanish skills are going to come in handy with a couple of these guys we're observing. I'm sure you won't be disappointed in this arrangement, Sir."

"Greg…Brandon isn't here. He never got on the plane in New York."

"What do you mean? What happened?"

"I don't know, Heffernan, I was thinking you might tell _me_. He and I were supposed to be on the same flight. It was delayed by severe weather in another state, but the replacement eventually showed up. When I talked to Brandon that evening, he said he'd be on that flight, no matter what time it left. Then he didn't show.

"I tried calling him a few times before the plane took off, but all I got was his voicemail. It seemed like his phone might have been turned off. I didn't understand it, but they weren't going to hold the plane either."

"So Brandon didn't show up, and he never contacted you?" Greg shook his head. "That doesn't sound like him, Sir."

"No, especially considering how excited he was to be coming. I don't know what to tell you, Greg. I never made this trip a requirement for him. The two of you initiated everything."

Greg dug out his phone to try calling Brandon himself. He was disturbed by the way the phone flipped straight to a voicemail message. "This isn't right," he said to himself.

"It _is_ weird, and I'm hoping there's some explanation—"

"Something's wrong," he interrupted Kelley. "We don't ever turn our phones off. They're our lifelines to stay connected with everyone."

"Are you talking about your 'special' friends?"

Greg's eyes widened out of reflex, and he looked around as if someone knew what his boss was talking about. Matthew Kelley had become aware of his unique relationship with the turtles the year before, when they'd been forced to rescue his Director and Brandon from a crumbling building after the earthquake.

"You told me to keep the guys out of your business. Why do _you_ keep bringing them up?" Greg demanded.

"I'm not allowed to ask a question?"

"You're the one who said you had to be hands off. Now you keep trying to find ways to get me to talk about them, or you go searching for them behind my back!"

Kelley's arms crossed stiffly. "Are you their gatekeeper? I can't have anything to do with them unless I go through you? I never forced them to meet me, Greg."

"You're confusing me, Director. One minute you don't want to be within 100 yards of them, and the next you're spending your evenings getting tips from 911 operators so you can hunt them down? Does that seem logical to you?"

"I did that _one_ time, Heffernan," he protested, then took a sharp breath. "You don't trust me at all. You'd _rather_ I stayed away and never mentioned them again."

"Director, it's not that simple, okay? I want to protect you almost as much as I _have_ to protect them."

"I don't follow you, Heffernan. Do they pose a danger to me?"

"No," Greg said quickly. "That isn't what I meant. You have priorities that have to come first, like your family and your position. You're the Director of the FBI field operatives. You can't afford to get entangled in this; you said so yourself."

"Do you feel trapped by them, Greg?"

"No!" Greg nearly shouted in indignation. "The guys would never force someone to act against their will. But when you get to know them, when you really enter their world…Director, it changes things. It puts everything into a new perspective. I _do_ have an overdeveloped need to protect them, but please believe that I'm trying to look out for you too. I don't want you to be forced to compromise."

"I'm _already_ doing that, Greg. You don't think ignoring their vigilante activity or your illegal efforts to assist them qualifies as a compromise?"

"I'm sorry about that, Sir, but I didn't choose for you to be a part of this. We've gotten completely off subject, in any case. I need to track down Brandon."

Kelley remained silent while Greg dialed Leonardo. The phone rang a number of times, and he nearly hung up to try someone else right before the turtle finally answered.

"Hey, Greg." Leonardo's voice was strained.

"Leo, what's going on stateside? Is something wrong?"

The turtle took a shaky breath. "Yeah, it is," he said tightly. "Greg, Don's hurt. We didn't want to scare you unnecessarily, and there are a lot of things up in the air—"

"_How_ is he hurt, Leo?"

"He was attacked. We don't know why, or who was behind it. He suffered a severe head injury, and…Don was alone, Greg. None of us knew that anything had happened to him, not until Mike woke up hours later. There were complications."

Greg leaned against the building for support. "How bad, Leo? How bad is this?"

"The docs don't know yet. They had to operate to relieve pressure on his brain. He's on life support, and they can't tell us if there's serious brain damage, or if Don will wake up again period."

Greg felt like the Earth was tilting underneath him as Leonardo went on.

"I'm sorry, Greg. I'm sorry that we didn't tell you right away. We…I'm barely hanging in here as it is."

"It explains why Brandon didn't show," Greg murmured into the receiver.

"What do you mean he didn't show?"

"Why he didn't get on the plane," Greg clarified. "I was calling to find out what happened to him, and now I know."

"Bran _didn't_ get on the plane?" Leo's voice rose several degrees.

Greg allowed the surprise in the turtle's tone to sink in for a beat. "Are you telling me that he's not with you, Leo?"

"Greg, we haven't seen or heard from Brandon in three days, not since the night when Donny…" Leonardo swore as he cut away from the phone.

"Leo?" Greg called after him. "Hey, what's going on?"

The blue-masked turtle didn't answer him, but he could hear Leonardo talking in the background to someone else. "…No, he didn't get on the plane! Hurry up, Doc, we've missed something _huge_! We have to find him!"

By the time Leonardo returned to the phone, Greg was on the verge of exploding.

"_What_ is going on? We don't know where Brandon is?"

"We're going to find him," Leonardo said firmly. "The thing with Don went down the same night that Bran was supposed to leave. The two of them had an argument, and Brandon ended up leaving the Den without his phone. Don was taking it back to him. I should have gone with him, but I didn't.

"Everyone fell asleep here, without a clue that Donny was in trouble. He never set off his watch. Kat and Tim checked Brandon's place – it was clean. There was no evidence that anything had happened! His luggage was gone. Kat talked with the airline, and found out that the flight had departed. We thought he got on the plane, Heff!"

"He didn't," Greg said faintly. "Do you have a location?"

"Just a minute, Greg." Leo's voice became muffled as he spoke to someone else, but Greg could make out some of what he was saying. "No, Doc, check the _history_. Can someone look up this address while he's doing that please?"

Greg waited impatiently to hear from the turtle again. The two-minute wait felt more like ten.

"He's in Greenwich Village, Greg, has been ever since Sunday night. We don't know what this place is yet, but Doc said he hasn't budged according to the history on his beacon."

"That makes no sense whatsoever."

"I know it doesn't, Heff! Wait a second."

Greg heard the sound of a female talking, though he couldn't tell what she was saying.

"Greg, this place is a night club, Soiree? Are you familiar with it?"

His brow furrowed. "No, Leo, we've never been there. Bran's not really the 'night club' type. He's been at the same address this entire time?"

"His implant is practically stationary. There's very little movement."

"Something's fishy here, Leo."

"I couldn't agree more. We're getting ready to move on the address as soon as I get off the phone."

"It's still daylight there!" Greg pointed out.

"I don't care!" he exploded. "We have to _find_ him, Greg! The guys who attacked Donny, they might have something to do with Brandon going missing too. What are the chances that Bran would strangely disappear on the same night that Don was nearly killed?"

"Okay, well…" Greg hesitated. _There's nothing I can do to help them from here. I can only wait to hear something, _he thought with frustration. "Call me with news, and don't do anything crazy."

"Greg, if you could see Don, you wouldn't tell us to go easy on anyone."

"I'm just telling you not to get _caught_."

"We'll handle this. I'll call you when we know something for sure."

"Do that, and I'm gonna start booking a way home."

When Greg hung up the phone, he suddenly remembered that Kelley had been standing there the whole time.

The man's eyes were slightly bulging as he stared at him. "That didn't sound good, Heffernan. What's going _on_?"

"I don't know," he said vaguely. "Brandon's missing. He isn't at home, and hasn't been around in days. The guys thought he got on the plane."

"Then who's hurt?"

Greg grimaced. "Donatello. Brandon disappeared and Donny got hurt on the way to his apartment, all in the same night. Leo thinks the events are related somehow."

"Donatello couldn't tell them anything?"

Greg broke eye contact with Kelley and stared at the ground. "His injuries are life-threatening – it didn't sound like Don was in a position to talk. The docs don't know if he's going to make it."

Kelley caught his breath. "Then what happens now?"

"Leo had someone trace Brandon's beacon while I was on the phone with him. They've got a location, and they're going to retrieve him."

"Retrieve him? Do they have evidence that he was kidnapped?"

"Not specifically, no, but the history on his beacon puts him at this night club in Greenwich Village. He hasn't left the place since the night he disappeared. _Something_ weird is going on there."

"No kidding…" Kelley trailed off. "The club has to close sometime. It's not like Brandon to leave like that, is it?"

"No, Sir."

"So you need to get home."

Greg looked up. "As soon as possible. I have to apologize, Director. I've enjoyed this opportunity to be in the field again, but _two _of my best friends' lives could be at risk. I can't ignore that."

Kelley shook his head, a troubled look coming over his eyes. "I don't expect you to, Heffernan. What would someone _want _with Brandon?"

"I honestly don't know," he replied. "The guys have enemies, but most of them are locked up. They wouldn't have a reason to track down Brandon either."

"Unless they knew that they could get to your friends through him," Kelley said. "Is it possible that they're being set up as we speak?"

Greg had to admit that he hadn't considered the possibility, and rapidly reached for his phone.

"Would it be unheard of to go to the police with this information?" Kelley asked.

"And tell them what, Director? That we followed our friend's tracking device and someone could be holding him against his will? What would _you_ say if I'd told you that?"

"I'd think you were off your rocker, but I'd probably still investigate."

"Investigating would take too long. If we let the guys handle it, there's no delay of action. If you'll give me a minute, I want to warn them of what you just mentioned." Greg turned away from Kelley as he called Leonardo back, and he immediately voiced the concern over whether Brandon might be bait.

"We're going to proceed carefully, Heff, but we can't wait around to make sure we'll be safe. Brandon could be hurt, or even…" Leonardo stopped short, but Greg's mind filled in the rest.

_We don't know if he's alive, or how much longer he might be._

"I get it, Leo; just watch your shells, huh?"

"We're looking out for each other, Greg."

"That's all I ask. No solo stuff."

"None. We're not going there, Greg, not after Don…" Leo faltered. "We're going to stick together."

Greg hung up the phone a second time and nearly collapsed against the building. _They'll be okay. They know what they're doing. Brandon's alive. No one has a reason to kill him._

"Greg?" Kelley's voice broke through the panic Greg was trying to fight down. "Are you gonna be all right?"

"Yeah, I need a second," he said breathlessly. The picture of Brandon in mortal danger was being replaced with an image of a helpless Donatello on life support. He felt utterly powerless to move as fear wracked his mind.

"Greg," Kelley repeated after a couple of minutes had passed. "Let's get on finding you a plane home."

He stood up straight, and his own weight felt unbearable. Kelley's arm tentatively grazed his back.

"It's best not to imagine the worst, Greg. I know things can seem even more complicated when you're this far away. Are you sure I shouldn't be contacting the authorities for Brandon?"

"The guys are already moving, Sir. There won't be a massacre, I assure you. Even at their angriest, they don't have that in them."

"That isn't what concerns me, Heffernan. They don't know what they're walking into, do they?"

"No, but they can't afford to waste another minute either. I guarantee they'll reach Brandon faster than the cops can."

"I'm not doubting that, Greg, I'm only considering everyone's safety."

The younger man stared at Kelley. "You honestly care what happens to them, don't you? It's starting to feel more like you're hands-_on_, Director."


	16. Discovery

Leonardo's heart was beating so hard, it felt like it was about to come out of his chest. His muscles were completely rigid as he rode in the back of the Battleshell with his brothers. The blue-masked turtle's first objective was to control his own anxiety, so that he could focus more readily on Raphael and Michelangelo.

_I don't believe this. I don't. We assumed too much. _Why_ didn't we check Brandon's implant to start with? We let him go completely off our radar and didn't even question it. _Leonardo rubbed a hand over his eyes as he took a deep breath. _Please, God, let him be alive. I don't understand what someone could _want _with Bran. Please let him be alive._

Leonardo regretted the simple version of the beacon with which Brandon was implanted, as it couldn't give them anything but a location. _I'm grateful for that much, but I'd give anything to know that he's okay. Get it together, Leo, you _have_ to get it together._

He took few more strong breaths, and looked up at his brothers across from him. Michelangelo's leg was vibrating non-stop, displaying his nervous energy openly. Raphael was stoic, but the way he folded his arms across his chest and rested his head against the sidewall of the van revealed his inner turmoil.

"We're going to need some ground rules going into this." Leonardo finally broke the silence. "We have to let Kat and Tim take a stronger role up front to find out if there's a possibility of foul play."

"_If_?" Raphael repeated sharply. "_If_ there's foul play involved, Leo? You're outta your gourd if you think Bran would _choose_ to disappear like this. He was supposed to get on that dang plane. If he wanted to get away from us, that was all he had to do, not run to some stupid night club in Greenwich Village!"

Michelangelo shook his head. "He wouldn't do it, Leo, no matter how mad he was at Donny. That's not Brandon."

"I don't think it is either," Leo said quickly. "I'm only saying that we need to figure out what's going on before we storm the place."

"And _how_ are we gonna figure out what's happening if we don't go in, Leo?" Raph asked pointedly. "Don and Heff are our techies, and neither of them is here. All we've got to go on is our own eyes and ears."

"We're going to have to use them," Leo said shortly. "But we can't just run amok in the daylight. The temptation is to rush in with barrels blazing, but we have to take it a little bit slower."

"We can't leave without him either, Leo. Whatever it takes to get to Brandon, we've got to do it. I don't care if fifty people see us in the process. They're not gonna believe what they see anyway; no one ever does the first time!" Mike shot off in one breath.

"Okay, Mikey, _breathe_," Leonardo urged. "No, we're not going to leave without him. That isn't what I'm suggesting. The only thing I'm asking for right now is some patience. Let Kat and Tim do what they're good at and we need to hang back until we have some information. Can you guys handle that?"

Mike nodded, and Raphael grunted something indiscernible.

Within a few more minutes, it felt like the van was coming to a definite stop. Leo was expecting a phone call, so he was surprised by the knock at the back door. He glanced at his brothers mutely, and no one moved until the _correct_ knock followed it. The blue-masked turtle rose to unlock the door.

Kat looked inside sheepishly. "Sorry. I kind of forget that part sometimes."

"You and your old partner." Raphael snorted. "Greg's been known to give us a heart attack too."

"Where's Tim?" Leonardo asked automatically.

"He's heading inside to find someone to talk to," Kat answered.

"By himself?" Leonardo's eye ridges rose. "Kat, if there are dirty dealings here—"

"Leo, relax. He isn't going to directly ask about Brandon, or give any indication of an investigation. He just wants to get an idea of the layout, and try to find someone in a management position."

"What will _you_ be doing?" Raphael asked knowingly.

"I'm going to poke around the exterior and search for inconsistencies, anything that looks out of place. If Brandon's being held against his will, it wouldn't be up front where any club patrons could see him. I'm going to search for clues that they're hiding something, and I thought another pair of eyes would be useful."

Her gaze fell on Leonardo, and Raphael immediately made a scoffing sound.

"Figures. Fearless goes, and Mike and I get to babysit the Battleshell, right?"

"Not for long," Katherine said briskly. "If we find one shred of evidence as to Brandon's location, I'll be happy to watch you take this place apart to get to him."

"Kat, hang on," Leo said firmly. "You can't forget what we are, or the time of day it is. I'm more than willing to take the risk to get Brandon back, but we can't be reckless. We have to remain invisible."

The woman shifted awkwardly in her stance. "We have to get to him, Leo."

"We're going to," he reassured her, and looked back at his brothers. "Just stay—"

"Stay here; we got the memo, Leo," Raphael said bitterly.

"We'll be back in a little while," he said softly.

Leonardo drew the bill of a ball cap further down on his forehead to complete his outfit, and followed the bronze-haired woman out of the car, and around the back of the parking lot.

"Stay behind me, Leo, and I'll keep a close watch on what's ahead. Then if you need to—"

"I can disappear."

"Right. You know what you're doing, so I'll stop trying to tell you everything."

As they reached the right side of the building that was facing a residential street, Leonardo's eyes were already roving for details, searching for disturbances in the gravel. He bent down close to the ground, surveying scattered rocks. At the sound of people close by in the neighborhood, the turtle tugged harder on his sweatshirt and kept his head down.

"This area has seen a good deal of foot traffic. Does that make sense to you?" he asked.

"Well…that's probably a service entrance over there." Katherine pointed to a large steel door. "I'd wager they receive deliveries on this side, judging from the size of the door."

"Do you think the amount of disturbance can account for a normal working environment?"

"It doesn't stand out to me. Let's keep looking."

After thoroughly searching the exterior, they back-tracked through the parking lot to check the other side. This part of the structure opened into an alley which was flanked by a second building. Leonardo's eyes probed the early evening shadows, hoping to find something that would be worth their time.

Everything looked normal from the surface. The typical dark blue dumpsters were in place, along with a door that looked like it could be a second service entrance.

_Exactly what did I expect to find out here? I mean, how stupid could—_

Leonardo's thought was cut short by the squeal of the door. He vaulted over one of the dumpsters, praying for enough room to squeeze up against the building. To her credit, Kat was only a split second behind him.

From his end behind the dumpster, he could just make out the door as it inched open, and he fell back partway as someone hesitated under the frame. Leonardo heard a muffled voice traveling from inside the building, but couldn't tell what the person was saying.

_Move on, _he pleaded softly_. Just keep going, don't linger._

Leo heard soft footsteps in the gravel as the figure walked out into the alley, and the man's voice rose with whomever he was addressing. After an instant of shock, he recognized the foreign language being spoken.

"_I know you think me a fool, but I am going to prove otherwise to you. We are making the most of our time here. Why do you keep questioning me about our activities? I _told_ you we were keeping a low profile."_

"Leo, is that Japanese?" Katherine hissed from beside him.

"Yes," he whispered in return. "Let me listen, okay?"

The blue-masked turtle pressed up against the outer edge of the dumpster, trying to get a better look at the man without revealing _himself_.

"_I know you don't like it, but what would you have me do? You exiled me to this godforsaken city with so few resources. Why on earth does Takashi-sama wish to return to this place? It makes no sense to me."_

Leonardo caught his breath at the same time as he heard a soft gasp from Katherine.

"Did he just say something about Takashi?" she demanded softly.

"Yes; be quiet," Leonardo insisted.

"_It _is_ my business! You said we would be nearly partners in this, but you give me so little money that we _have_ to find a way to meet the needs by our own means. These men will not follow us based on my word alone. I have to either provide for them, or lead them in the efforts to fulfill our requirements to live."_

Leonardo couldn't resist the urge to _see_ the speaker any longer. He boldly emerged partially from hiding, since the man seemed to be so engaged on his cell phone that he probably wouldn't notice him immediately. He stayed close to the ground as he took another step out of hiding.

When the turtle laid eyes on the figure with the phone, his blood literally ran cold. He rammed back up against the building, sliding entirely behind the dumpster to rejoin Katherine.

"What did you see?" she whispered. "Does this have something to do with the Akiudo?"

"It's _Daichi_." Leonardo spoke the man's name as if it were a curse word. "He's not acting alone either; someone sent him here."

"Takashi?"

"No, he was talking _about_ Takashi, but not directly to him. They've got to be formulating some type of a strike against us." Leonardo wanted to bang his head against the brick building.

"They _already _struck, Leo. Donny. Brandon," Kat said mechanically.

"So it would seem. The pieces fit," Leonardo said angrily.

"Wait a minute," Katherine realized. "Daichi's in charge of this little operation, and we just let him walk _away_?"

Leonardo glanced back out into the alley, and caught sight of Daichi's form continuing out onto the sidewalk on the opposite end. "He'll be back, Kat, and we'll be waiting for him. In the meantime, we're going to get your brother out of there. We have the element of surprise on our hands. They don't know we're here, and they probably don't have very much by way of security. We need to see what's behind that door."

Leonardo crept away from the dumpster with Kat behind him, and he tried the door handle. "Locked. We could break in, but I'd rather not give ourselves away if we don't have to."

"So we need some keys," Katherine said thoughtfully. "Leave it to me, Leo. I'll go see who Tim found to talk to inside. There has to be someone here who can unlock the door."

"Kat, maybe we should consider another option. If these people are harboring the Akiudo…"

"Leo, the club owner might not have a clue who he's handling. They probably have some extra space, like storerooms or a basement, and the Akiudo are simply using it. Maybe the owner is involved – maybe he isn't. I'll be careful either way. Go back to the van and break the news as carefully to your brothers as you can. I'll check in with you in another half an hour, tops."

Leonardo agreed to the plan, and silently strode through the alley to the parking lot to return to the Battleshell. _The guys are going to be furious that I let Daichi walk, but this will be easier to accomplish if he isn't here. I'm with Mike; whatever it takes, we have to get Bran out _now_. God only knows what they've been doing with him. I don't even what to think about it._

_Daichi will be back, and we'll be ready for him. He won't get away with what they did to Don, _or _taking Brandon. This ends today._


	17. Strategy

***Part of this is a little...unconventional, but I had to answer a challenge that was laid down by a couple of Facebook friends while I was writing Refuge. I was lamenting the difficulty of continuing to come up with new "fresh" sounding ways for the guys to break in somewhere...and received a very interesting suggestion. I was determined to somehow implement it into Watchmen. Mission accomplished, thanks to Mikey's genius. :D (Many thanks to Mary and Candice too ;)**

* * *

><p>Michelangelo couldn't figure out if he was angrier with Daichi, or himself. <em>I had him last time! All I needed to do was finish him off on Yonaguni, and none of this would have happened. Donny wouldn't be hurt like this, and Brandon wouldn't have…Shell, we've got to get in there and find out what they've done with him.<em>

Mike raged underneath the surface, while Raphael's anger was slightly more visible. The red-masked turtle was already on his feet with clenched fists, impatiently watching Leonardo who was on the phone.

"Mmhm. Don't worry about that, Kat, we'll find a way around it. I've got just the tool to take that out, or I should say, Don provided it. He already equipped the disruptor…no, see, that's the beauty of it. He programmed the device to search out the frequencies in use; Donny was telling me all about it last month."

"_Fearless_," Raphael interjected. "Can you wrap this up maybe, in like another hundred words or less?"

Leonardo glanced at him with irritation, then turned back to the phone. "I'll show you when we get there. No sign of your husband yet, but I'm sure he won't be much longer. We'll strategize a little bit more while we watch for him."

The blue-masked turtle closed the phone, and Mike sat up further on his seat.

"What, Leo?" Mike asked quickly. "What did Kat find out?"

"Tim already had the club owner cornered inside, and she managed to steal him away for a private chat. Kat told him she'd partied with some 'Asians' last night and the guy claimed to have never heard of them. She mentioned leaving some expensive ring behind, and he wasn't the least bit sympathetic. He wasn't going to open that door. Kat ended up bluffing about calling the cops to sort everything out, and the owner magically granted her access to the side entrance."

"That's great, Leo, really," Raphael said hurriedly. "Now what did she _find_?"

"It led to another storeroom, and the owner said she should know her way _down_ from there."

"A basement?" Mike wondered.

"That's what he seemed to be inferring. There's another locked door to get through, and the owner swears he doesn't have the key for that one. But there's more."

"What else?" Raphael huffed, as if he couldn't believe that it was taking so long to explain.

"That door is under surveillance. There's a mounted camera that's probably intended to identify anyone who approaches it."

Raphael laughed without mirth. "So we turn off the light, and the jokers don't even see us coming."

"Not a bad idea, Raph, but I have something else in mind. It will take out their camera and their communications in one fell swoop," Leo told him.

"You're talking about Donny's disruptor thing?" Mike verified.

"Exactly. The software he loaded for the device is supposed to detect the electromagnetic waves in use, and we can opt to temporarily 'disrupt' them."

"That's the theory anyway," Raphael said skeptically.

"Raph, I've seen it work. Don used one of these when we broke into the Genetic Institute in North Carolina," Leo insisted.

"Yeah, _Don_ used it," Raphael said morosely.

"We have the technology," Leo said firmly. "He adapted it to be user friendly, and I think we should take advantage of it. There's only the small matter of getting the basement door open."

"What's the big deal about a lock, Leo? We've got enough explosives to blow it to smithereens. That's the easy part." Raphael smirked.

"Raph, you can't forget the position we're in. We're dealing with humans upstairs _and_ downstairs. All it takes is one person to call 911, and we'll be screwed."

"I thought you said we could knock out their phones." Mike was confused.

"The disruptor operates in a limited field, Mike. Anyone above ground wouldn't even be affected by it. Besides, if we announce our arrival that dramatically, it could give them a chance to take Brandon hostage. We have to do this _ninja_ style."

"Fine," Raphael said shortly. "Then how the shell do you want to get the door open?"

"We could try knocking," Mike suggested tongue-in-cheek.

Raphael scowled at him. "Right, shell-head. We walk right up to the door and _ask_ to be let in?"

"They won't know who's on the other side," Mike pointed out. "It could work." He expected the same attitude from Leonardo, but the blue-masked turtle had a probing look on his face.

"Maybe…maybe it could," Leo finally said.

"Fearless, that's the craziest thing I've ever heard," Raphael complained. "You can't agree with Mike on this."

"They aren't expecting us," Leonardo said calmly. "I think we should consider it as an option."

"I don't even know what planet you two are from," Raphael grumbled. "But I'm sick of waiting."

"Doc will be here soon. We need someone else on the outside prepared to help us get away quickly if the cops are called, and Brandon may need medical attention," Leo returned.

Mike fingered the handle of one of his nunchucks, steadying himself for what was coming. When Leo's phone rang, his head jerked around to watch his oldest brother answer.

"Kat…he is? Did you tell him…Okay. We're on our way to you." Leo hung up.

"What'd she say?" Mike asked.

"Kat just saw Doc pull in. She wants us to meet her around the left side of the building."

"I'm confused, Leo. Is she running the show, or are you?" Raphael asked.

Leonardo gave him a steely glare. "It's called working _together_, Raph. Let's go."

Michelangelo and Raphael had long ago slipped into "civilian dress" to help them blend in outside like Leonardo. They silently followed the blue-masked turtle's lead as he showed them to the side entrance. Out of the corner of Mike's eye he noticed Luke's Volvo pulling into a parking space, and he paused in his step.

Leonardo nodded for them to keep going without speaking, and Mike set his face forward. His older brother went straight toward the steel door, and tried the doorknob. Leo smiled grimly when it turned, and slipped inside the building.

As Michelangelo crossed into the darkened space, he heard Kat calling out to them quietly.

"Keep going, guys, just a little further!"

Mike surveyed the small stockroom from the narrow hall, stopping behind Leonardo who was beside Katherine and Tim.

"What's the plan for getting inside?" Timothy asked.

"I've got a couple of disruptors to deal with the camera and their cell phones," Leo answered. "The only problem is, they have a limited range. Donatello says that they need to be operating inside the same field as the electronics in question. I was thinking my brothers and I could take one device, and you and Kat could cover the door with another one. We don't want anyone to have the chance to escape."

Michelangelo saw Katherine bristle at the announcement that she would be "covering the door", but the woman didn't argue.

"How are we getting _through_ the other door?" she asked.

"Well…uh…Mike suggested that we could try knocking, and I'm actually leaning toward his idea," Leo said.

Katherine's brow furrowed. "That's either crazy, or brilliant."

"Why can't it be both?" Mike grinned.

"If we're gonna do it, Leo, let's do it," Raphael urged.

"Hold on," the blue-masked turtle said maddeningly. "We don't know how good these warriors are, so we need to bring it full force, you guys. Don't hold anything back."

"Thanks for the permission, Leo," Raphael said darkly.

"Raph, we're in this together. Don't forget that. We don't have a clue what we're up against down there. We go forward as one unit, and we're not going to separate or draw unnecessary attention. Stealth is our best ally."

"Yeah, yeah, Leo." Raphael was exasperated. "I get it, we all get it. Let's _go_."

Leonardo drew out one of the small electronic disruptors. "Let's see if I can make this work. It's definitely on…searching for frequencies…"

"Are we letting the guy who can't handle a kitchen appliance knock out the ability to use _any_ electronic device?" Mike asked under his breath.

"I heard that," Leo said sharply. "Now. If I just select the right field…"

Mike didn't notice anything dramatic happen, but when he checked his phone, he realized the device was completely dead. "You were _trying_ to turn the phones off, right?"

"Yes. In order for them to be blinded, we have to be blinded too. But we know what's really going on, and they don't. Let's move." Leonardo handed the device off to Kat, and took a moment to set up the other disruptor.

Leonardo eyed the mounted camera, and took the step of faith inside the stockroom. "They shouldn't be able to see us. Here goes nothing."

The oldest turtle knocked firmly on the basement door and Mike waited with bated breath for someone to answer. There were a few seconds in which it seemed like nothing was happening, but Leonardo wasn't so easily dissuaded. He knocked again, so insistently that the door frame shuddered under his force.

"_Who's there_?" a voice called in Japanese from the other side.

"_Open the door, you idiot_!" Leo called back in the deepest tone he possessed.

The blue-masked turtle took a step closer as the door swung inward, and lunged the moment he had an opening. Mike rushed toward the door, arriving in time to watch his oldest brother silently dispatch the door-man. Leonardo dropped the man in a heap on the storage room floor.

"Kat, Tim, bind him," Leo ordered. "Don't let anyone out of this door, even if it means threatening deadly force. I'd rather you didn't shoot anyone for the noise factor—"

"We'll handle it, Leo," Kat interrupted. "The owner said this is the only way in or out. Nothing will get past us. Go get my brother."

Leo nodded, and stuck his head through the door frame again. "It's clear. It was just the one guard at the top of the stairs. Stay right with me, guys."

Michelangelo drew both nunchucks as he continued through the door, and followed Leonardo to the head of the staircase. The orange-masked turtle was careful to distribute his weight as he descended, so as not to make a detectable sound. He could hear Raphael's breathing softly building behind him, and felt his own adrenaline increasing too.

Mike watched Leonardo like a hawk for direction. The oldest turtle touched down on the basement floor, and hovered near an open door frame that led into another room.

"Not much light, you have to like that," Leo murmured. "There's no telling how many rooms there are, but the men are probably concentrated together. Let's take this slow."

A smile crept onto Mike's face as they worked their way inside a large open space. His ears were alert for the sound of other people. _I'd _kill_ to hear someone right now; I can't wait to get my hands on them._

He wouldn't have to wait long as it turned out. Leonardo held up a hand to stop their advance, as four men crossed within a few feet of where they'd entered.

"_Who's there_?" One of the shadows stiffened as he noticed them.

Leonardo nodded at his brothers, and they all surged forward without uttering a word.

Michelangelo withheld the war cry with which he wanted to react, satisfying himself with the sound of the _crack _of a nunchuck connecting with someone's head. The man crumbled at the turtle's feet, and Mike wheeled around to see Raphael handling two of them at once.

From the red-masked turtle's posture, it looked like his brother was ready to snap both their necks where he stood. Mike folded his arms impatiently as the men in each of his brother's hands gasped for air.

"Finish, Raph, we have work to do!" Leo hissed.

Raphael released both men long enough to deliver simultaneous knock-outs.

Mike winced at the sound as the men fell to the floor, and Leonardo shook his head. His oldest brother slid back into the shadows, leading them silently along the outside wall. Michelangelo saw the next lone wolf that was on a path to intersect with them, and casually trotted out to meet him.

"Good evening, dude," he greeted.

"_What_—"

Mike didn't let the man get another word off, clapping a hand over the warrior's mouth. He struck the back of the man's legs and sent him crashing to the ground. The orange-masked turtle jammed his knee into the warrior's face, and enjoyed watching him flop backwards.

"We need to be quieter than that," Leonardo whispered fiercely. "All it takes is one person—"

"Shinji?" Another voice called from nearby. "_Are you coming_?"

The turtles pressed against the wall as more shadows appeared from around the corner.

"_You are holding us up, Shin_—" The speaker cut off, blinking rapidly as he laid eyes on the turtles. "_Intruders! We have intruders below_!"


	18. Rush

Raphael was secretly ecstatic that they'd been revealed, and that the real action could begin. Stealth and secrecy had its place in every operation, but he wasn't in the mood to step lightly. He didn't waste time waiting for any more warriors to join the escalating fight, throwing himself into frenzy in the middle of the pack that had just discovered them.

With the first bone-cracking connection his foot made with someone's rib cage, Raphael sensed himself on the verge of losing control. He ignored the sensation initially, feeding off the enraged energy to decimate another man that hadn't gotten out of his way fast enough.

The red-masked turtle laughed in the face of another man wielding a tanto in an ungainly manner, and easily brought down the prongs of one of his sai on the handle of his enemy's weapon. "You're gonna have to do _so_ much better than that."

The man tried to twist his blade out from underneath Raphael's grip, and the turtle applied appropriate force to disarm him completely. He caught the warrior by the arm, and swung the man around as hard as he could, hefting him against another warrior that was inches from his left side.

Raphael looked around quickly for his brothers, and realized they'd huddled up closer to him when he hadn't been paying attention. He chided himself for leaving Leo and Mike out of the equation, and backed up further so that his shell was almost touching theirs.

"We've got this, guys, we've got this," Raphael proclaimed.

Leonardo gave him a short nod as he raised both katana in a ready stance. There were few things Raphael loved more than the sight of his oldest brother with his blades drawn, preparing to face down the enemy.

He grinned with satisfaction at the serious glint in his youngest brother's eyes too. As much of a jokester as Michelangelo was, when it came time to work, the orange-masked turtle was just as deadly as the rest of them.

It was a good feeling to be facing down the threat together, but the loss of Donatello was still weighing heavily in the back of Raphael's mind. He willfully shut down the temptation for grief, channeling the emotion into anger.

_They'll pay for touching Donny and Bran. They'll _all _pay._

Raphael shuddered as the fury built to a crescendo, and more warriors began fanning out across the room. He had to laugh once more at their disorganized assault. _Without a leader to direct 'em, they're like little lemmings following each other off a cliff. I'll be _happy_ to show them the way down._

His instinct was to charge to meet them, but he followed Leonardo's example in remaining still. He waited along with his brothers for the men to get in range, not moving until the handle of a nunchuck flailed over his head.

Raphael shook his head as he darted out with his sai, rapidly capturing the chain of the weapon with which the man had been bearing down on him. "Aw, is this your first time using a real nunchuck?" he taunted. "My little brother mastered that move when he was about six years old."

"I looked better doing it too," Mike chortled.

Raphael yanked the chain of the nunchuck to draw his enemy closer. The startled man stared into his amber eyes, as though _seeing_ him for the first time.

"_Shitenno!_" His enemy gasped.

"That's right, scum, you picked a fight with the _wrong_ demon." Raphael delivered the disabling blow; a right hook to the surprised man's chin that sent him tumbling backwards several feet.

Raphael unhooked the nunchuck from his sai, but then lashed out with the handle at the next warrior within his reach. "Little variety keeps things fresh." He chuckled.

The man staggered as if stunned, and Raphael's right foot left the ground to finish him off. The red-masked turtle spun to carry his momentum through to the next man beside the one he'd just engaged, snapping the warrior's head back before he tumbled to the cement.

A strong grip on his shoulder nearly made Raphael fall into another attack pattern, but the touch was familiar.

"We're moving!" Leonardo directed. "Their numbers are limited. We need to get to Brandon before they do something with him!"

The thought sent goose bumps down Raphael's arms, and he eagerly followed Leonardo as the blue-masked turtle charged across the basement. Mike fell into position right beside Raphael, and they aggressively dealt with the assailants that remained in the darkened space.

Raphael chuckled as he watched Mike front-flip over a warrior. As the confused man jerked around to face the orange-masked turtle, Mike wrapped both nunchucks around the enemy's arms, flinging him out of the way with a quick turn and flick of his wrists.

Raphael bulled forward and rammed his elbow across the next man's jaw. He actually felt the bone shatter, but he didn't even take the time to watch the assailant fall. _They wanna act like tough guys; let them go down even harder._

A cry of exclamation from Leonardo had Raphael spinning to see another man who was _sprinting _away from them. _That guy is going the wrong direction. Kat already said those stairs were the only way in or out. Can't imagine where he thinks he's going, unless—_

Raphael broke off as Leonardo dashed after the man, catching up to him in three strides. Rather than taking the warrior down, Leonardo yanked him around by the collar and pinned him to the floor, finally lowering a katana against his chin.

"_Where is he? Where's Brandon_?" the blue-masked turtle demanded dangerously.

"_It was not our fault! We did as we were told, it was Daichi, he is the one! You must understand…" _the man babbled under Leonardo's glare.

As much as Raphael wanted to watch the remainder of the encounter, he chose to assist Mike in taking out a couple more of the men that appeared to be trying to avoid notice. He grinned at the sight of two warriors who had arms locked, as though they were drawing strength from one another.

"Ain't that sweet," Raphael remarked. "The two of you wanna go down _together_. I can arrange that for you."

The red-masked turtle smirked as the men vaulted toward him as one unit. Raphael lowered his center of gravity and ducked his head protectively as he darted to meet them in the middle of the point at which their bodies were joined. His muscular arms leveled both warriors at the same time, as he plowed directly over them like a locomotive.

Raphael dusted off his hands as he looked around, searching for stragglers. He could see Mike scanning every direction, and assumed he was doing the same thing.

"Stay alert!" Leonardo called to them. "You_, up!_" he commanded his captive. "_Take us to Brandon!_"

"_It wasn't me, I didn't have anything to do with him_—"

"_I don't want to hear it!_" Leonardo was close to losing his steady tone. "_I'm two seconds away from turning you into a pincushion, you follow me? Take us to Brandon!_"

Raphael grinned as Leonardo picked the man up and shoved him in front of them, forcing the warrior to walk. The man shuffled forward on unsteady legs, heading for the far corner of the basement.

Raphael could see another shadow in the short distance, and hurried ahead to meet the human. The warrior didn't even attempt to resist him, instantly backing up against the wall.

"You just stay put if you know what's good…" Raphael started, trailing off when he saw what was under the lone light to his right. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of the pale figure that was strapped down to the table.

Raphael turned away from the warrior entirely, and walked in slow motion to investigate. The individual's face was hidden by a dark piece of material, but it was easy to see the deep lacerations that marred his bare chest.

The red-masked turtle swallowed hard as he removed what turned out to be a soaking wet towel from Brandon's face. He was relieved to see the man blink, and Raphael let out part of the breath he'd been holding.

"_Brandon_. It's gonna be okay now, Man, we got you."

The man didn't focus on him, and the grip Raphael took on his shoulder had the opposite effect of encouraging him. Brandon trembled so hard that the table vibrated beneath him.

"Bran, it's okay," Raphael repeated soothingly. "It's okay. We're here."

The man's unseeing gaze was almost as disturbing as the frigid temperature of his skin. Leonardo appeared suddenly on the other side of Brandon without any sound to announce his approach.

"He ain't with it, Fearless. I don't think he even knows it's us," Raphael faltered.

"We need to get him out of the restraints and take him to Doc," Leo said flatly.

As his older brother's hand strayed toward the first set of restraints, he took a sharp breath. "His right arm looks broken, Raph. Watch out for other injuries, but let's get him off this thing."

Brandon's body tensed, instantly curling into a protective position on the table as he was released. He brought his good arm up to shield his face as the turtles moved to lift him.

"Brandon, no one can hurt you now," Leonardo tried to reassure him. "We're getting you out of here. You're safe, Bran. You're safe."

A cry that sounded more animalistic than human left Brandon's mouth and Raphael immediately let go of him. The man's voice was raw, as if he was close to losing it entirely. Raphael wondered fleetingly if they should have brought him something to drink, and his eyes fell on a jug that was about half-way full of water. He was almost relieved, until he put the pieces together.

"They…they were _torturing_ him, Leo." The realization hit Raphael like a sucker punch, but the shock didn't last long. With a bellow of rage he turned on the warrior who was still plastered against the wall.

"Raph, wait! Mike, don't let him—"

Leonardo's words hardly registered in Raphael's ears, as he tried valiantly to get to the man. Michelangelo struggled to hold back his advance.

"Dude, hang on, hang on! Listen to Leo, Bro, listen to him!"

In the state of uncontrolled fury, he was close to clawing his youngest brother's eyes out just for getting in his way. Leonardo wrapped his arms around his shoulders from behind, dragging him backwards a couple of inches before Raphael locked his legs and refused to be budged.

"Raph, _stop_!" Leonardo insisted. "You can't take him out. We need him alive!"

"What for?" the red-masked turtle shot back.

"If something goes wrong with Daichi, we'll have to get answers from one of them. We can't afford to lose anyone," Leonardo said smoothly.

"Leo, _look_ at Bran! They tortured him; they tore him to shreds! They left Donny to die, and we're probably not gonna get him back! _Let me at him!_"

"No. Not that way, Raph. Never like that." Leonardo's voice was sharper than before, and his hold was unrelenting. "We've got to get answers. We have to find out what they're _doing_ here. Cut this out so we can get Brandon some help. He _needs_ you to keep your cool, Bro."

Raphael's breathing was still rapid as Leonardo slowly released him.

"I'm mad too, Raph, angry enough to destroy this whole place," Leonardo told him. "But we have to put Brandon first; we have to help _him_. He's alive, and that's the most critical thing at the moment. The docs can treat everything else."

Raphael shook as he fixed the terrified man behind Michelangelo with the most threatening look he possessed. "You've been touched by an angel, punk, but don't you worry. I ain't through with _any_ of you yet."

"Raph, go get Doc, and tell Kat and Tim what's going on. All things considered, I don't want to try moving Brandon on our own yet. Mike and I will start tying the rest of these guys up."

Raphael strode fiercely off into the darkness, heading for the staircase on the other side of the basement. _Leo wants me as far away from these guys as possible, and it's a good thing too. _He drove his foot angrily into someone's back as he stepped over them. _Nothing we do to them is gonna come close to making up for what they did to Don and Brandon. Nothing._


	19. Cornered

Leonardo took charge of carrying a blanket-wrapped Brandon out to the alley where Luke's Volvo was waiting. The doctor had been unable to get a lucid reaction out of their tortured friend when he had examined him in the basement. Luke's manner with Brandon was efficient, and he seemed to be in a hurry to get the man away from that place.

"Will you take him to a hospital?" Leo asked, hesitating near the car door while Katherine kept watch for him.

"No, Leo, I don't even know what I'd tell those people. I think it will be better for him psychologically if I take Brandon back to your home, to a familiar place, with familiar faces," Luke answered.

"I'm just saying, with everything that's wrong with him—"

"Leo, we can treat hypothermia, infection, and his broken arm along with anything else that's wrong with him underground. Do you not want him to be there?"

"It isn't that, Doc. You know I just want to make sure that Brandon's okay."

"I already gave him a shot of the adrenal-heat to help raise his body temperature. We'll start him on an aggressive treatment of antibiotics, get him completely stitched up…I'm not saying it won't be a job, Leo, but Marc, Caleb, and I can handle it."

"His arm doesn't look good."

"I'd bet money we're going to have to break it again to set it properly."

"What about…" Leonardo swallowed. "How long will it be before he recognizes us?"

"Brandon's in a state of psychological shock, Leo, likely induced by the trauma of whatever he's been through. His symptoms will probably persist for a while, but the dazed condition he's in right now…it could be anywhere from a couple hours, to a couple of _days_. We just have to get him through it."

Leonardo leaned heavily on the car door. "He was here the whole time. We had a ridiculously easy point of entry, and Daichi's men weren't even close to being the Akiudo's finest. Daichi is probably the only _real_ threat among them, but they followed whatever he said. I can't believe we let Brandon down this badly. This was never even about _him_. I know Daichi would only use Bran to get to _us_."

"Leo, if I can repeat something you said a couple of days ago...this isn't your failure. You didn't know Brandon was missing_, no one_ knew. His apartment was clean, and he was supposed to be gone. Nobody could have predicted Daichi returning to New York."

Leonardo was silent for a beat before making eye contact with the man. "Are you guys going to be able to transport Brandon okay?"

"Marc and Caleb are going to meet me at the van entrance with a slider. Between the three of us, we'll get him home, Leo. Don't stay here any longer than you have to though, okay?"

"We just need to wait for Daichi and get some answers out of him. I'm not sure how we're going to get him to talk yet. I don't want to resort to something that goes against our honor, but we have to find out who sent him. We've got to know where the extended threat comes from.

"Daichi is a henchman; that's all he's _ever_ been. Taking down his operation here proves how little experience he has with leadership. Those men down there snapped like toothpicks, and that's not something we're used to seeing with their warriors. I _heard_ Daichi say that Takashi wants to come back here. If we're going to come under further attack, I want to be prepared for it."

"But Takashi is behind bars!" Luke sounded frustrated.

"We all know that, but someone else is still running the show. We've got to get to the bottom of a few things, and you need to get Brandon out of here."

"Call me when you're on your way home. And Leo?"

"Yes?"

"For what it's worth, I don't think you guys should feel guilty for pushing Daichi further than you normally might. There are lives hanging in the balance…and he already deserves a lot worse than you're willing to dish out."

"I agree, Doc, but that doesn't mean we can act on it," Leo replied with more control than he actually felt. "Go. We'll catch up with you."

He stepped away from the Volvo and watched Luke pull the car away. On the inside he was running through all the possible methods they might be able to use to extract information from Daichi, and warring with his desire to kill the man outright.

_I don't know how I'll react to having him within reach. I _think_ I can control myself, but I'm not positive about anything._

"Leo, c'mon," Kat urged. "The sun's going down, but let's not expose you any more than necessary."

The turtle wordlessly followed her back inside, and she must have read his troubled state of mind.

"If you're not sure how far to go, you could always let _me _take care of Daichi," Kat offered with an edge to her tone.

"Kat…"

"Leo, he ripped apart two of our own, our _brothers_. I'm only saying, if it makes you too uncomfortable, I'd be happy to step in."

Leonardo shook his head sadly. "I'm no closer to figuring out what we should do with him than I was a few minutes ago. Hopefully we'll think of something in the time it takes his useless hide to get back here."

Katherine looked down at the ground. "Seeing my brother like that, Leo, it makes me want to hit someone over and over until they bleed as much as Brandon has. The image of _Donny_ in my head makes me want to unload on all of them."

"Kat, you're not the only one. I'm mad – my brothers are mad. We're all on the verge of snapping, but we can't give away control. We can't let the bad guys take that from us, or we're no different from the animals _they_ are."

"You guys will _never_ be in the same class as the Akiudo garbage," she said with certainty.

Leonardo shook his head once more. "With the violence we're capable of, you don't understand how fine of a line we walk sometimes, Kat. I know that you're extremely capable too. I just worry…"

"What, Leo?"

"I worry about becoming the monsters that the world assumes we are."

Katherine sighed quietly. "That's only because they can't see _you_, Leo. All of you are the furthest thing from monsters. Those rotten excuses for human beings on the other hand, they're lower than low. I meant what I said, Leo. Give me a crack at Daichi, and I'll help you find out anything you want to know."

* * *

><p>Daichi was irritated. His work over the last couple of hours had been a fruitless errand, as the subject of the tip Yukiko had provided for a more "suitable" headquarters for his men was in even worse condition than he'd expected.<p>

_She cannot stand that we are living underneath such a busy establishment, but where does she expect us to go? What does she want us to do? Live without electricity and plumbing? Run around homeless on the streets of New York? That will not earn me any new loyalty with the men. _

_They want to be taken care of in the manner they're accustomed to, the way Takashi looked after them. He was a strict leader, but no man ever went without. Until she is willing to send me more resources, Yukiko will have to deal with the fact that this is the best I can do._

Daichi slipped his key into the outside access door, and crossed through the narrow hallway that led to the storage room. His keys were still in his hand as he approached the basement door to let himself through.

He was surprised when he didn't find his watchman. Daichi growled darkly under his breath that the door had been unattended, and stormed down the staircase to give the guilty party a proper tongue lashing, and perhaps a blow or two to cement his point.

As Daichi's feet hit the ground floor of the basement, he was _not_ prepared to be accosted by twin katana blades. The startled man began to backpedal, but the blades pursued him rapidly, crossing one another at the base of his throat like a giant pair of scissors. Daichi didn't dare try moving again.

"_I'm so glad you decided to join us_," a cutting voice informed him.

Daichi squinted at the figure in the darkness, and his mouth dropped slightly as the Shitenno got directly in his face.

"_Are you _really_ that surprised? You attacked our own, and you didn't think we'd respond_?"

Daichi couldn't think of a safe answer, so he chose to say nothing. The katana blades guided him away from the stairs, and the blue-masked demon prodded him to walk backwards into the open area of the basement.

"_We have a lot to talk about, Daichi, _starting_ with what you're doing here_."

"_You are the almighty Shitenno_," Daichi said sarcastically, finding his boldness. "_Why should you need to ask _me_ anything_?"

One of the swords clipped his chin hard enough to draw blood. "_You have no idea how close to death you are_."

Daichi held his breath, waiting for the demon to finish him. The Shitenno merely forced him to start backing up faster.

"_You keep moving_," the creature ordered shortly. "_Unless you want the chance to see me use my steel _properly."

Daichi shut his mouth again, resolving not to speak. _If their pathetic underling could withstand hours of torture without revealing a detail, surely I can handle anything they will do. If I die, I die. Better to perish on the demon's blades than to be looked down upon by Takashi and Yukiko for the rest of my life._

"What're we doing with him, Leo?"

A low voice over Daichi's shoulder surprised him again, and he twisted his head to see two more of the Shitenno. The red-masked one scowled at him so darkly that Daichi barely contained a shudder.

_They are merciful creatures; they have proven it time and time again. I can outlast them._

"Let's get him locked up so we can discuss it a little more," the blue one said decisively.

As the demon began to lower his blades, Daichi ducked his head to charge at the creature as a last-ditch effort. He'd hardly lifted one leg before something crashed over the back of his head, and he instantly blacked out.

* * *

><p>Daichi awoke in an uncomfortable cramped position on his stomach, unable to move his limbs more than a couple of inches in any direction. In a cruel twist of irony, he realized he was inside the same storage closet that had been Brandon's prison.<p>

"_Be still, Daichi-san_."

The calm voice was familiar, and Daichi strained his neck to see Takumi beside him.

"_What is happening_?" Daichi asked.

"_The demons go to decide our fate_."

"_And you tell me to be _still?"

"_All things are not as they seem, Daichi-san. When the demons overtook the basement, I stowed myself away here before they could find me. They knew I was restrained; they _didn't_ know that I hold the key."_

Takumi immediately rose several points in Daichi's estimation. "_Do you mean that you can free yourself?"_

"_I already have, Daichi-san_. _The demons didn't know what to think when they found me already as a 'captive'. They placed you with me in order to discover how you would react to my presence."_

"_Are you able to free me as well?"_

"_Yes, Daichi-san, but it gets better. They appointed their _humans_ as guards."_

"_Their humans?"_

"_A man and woman stand over the door. I don't believe they took part in the original fight. They should not prove difficult for you to overcome."_

Daichi shook his aching head. "_Turn me loose, Takumi_."

"_I am going to help you onto your side, Daichi-san. It will provide a partial shield from what I am doing should they be watching us."_

Daichi grunted as Takumi fought to get him turned, so that his back was facing him.

"_Perfect, Daichi-san. I will have you free in no time_."


	20. Informant

Takumi had never been the fastest, strongest, or smartest member of any given group. But it was his one skill, his ease with picking locks that had cemented him with a small sense of usefulness to Daichi's scheme.

Takumi was also proud of his ability to be honest about his skills. When the cry of _Shitenno_ had gone up, he'd hurried to remove himself from the action. The man knew he didn't have a chance of taking the demons hand-to-hand, but expected that they might let him live if they found him as a prisoner.

That was how he came to be restrained in the storage closet by his own hand. With his hidden key strategically placed, all he had to do was open his manacles after they were gone, and he could make his escape. He _hadn't_ counted on the demons throwing a stunned Daichi into the closet with him, or the menacing look the red-masked turtle fixed him with as he shut the door.

_They are angry, and they are not going to write me off just because I could be another captive. It seems they might not be satisfied to simply leave us behind this time._

With that reasoning already in mind, he'd suggested the plan of overtaking the human guards to Daichi, and attempting to escape while they still had the chance.

"_Takumi, hurry_," Daichi urged him.

He surveyed Daichi's bonds silently, running his fingers over the plastic-coated restraints that felt strangely sturdy. _No matter. I've got just the thing to deal with them._

Takumi felt around for the drain cover in the darkness, and removed the small grate so that he could retrieve the tanto he'd planted before binding himself. With careful strokes he used the blade to cut through Daichi's restraints.

"_Are they watching us_?" Takumi asked Daichi, who was facing the door.

"_I cannot tell – but we shouldn't wait to try this_."

"_We will have to be swift in any case, Daichi-san. These two are armed with guns."_

"_The weapon of a coward," _Daichi scoffed. "_I don't care if Yukiko-san believes they _are_ a necessity._ _Let us show them how to fight properly. Take the woman, and show her no mercy. I will kill the other."_

Once he had Daichi free, the larger man inched closer to the door. Takumi followed Daichi's lead, staying near to the ground to make it more difficult for anyone outside to tell what they were doing.

Before Daichi could get his fingers around the handle, however, the door swung open hard. Takumi blinked in surprise, but Daichi didn't hesitate from launching toward the man in his path, despite the outstretched handgun.

Takumi found his courage in a flash as Daichi cleared the path for him to escape the closet by tackling one of their guards to the floor. The smaller man darted in the direction of the woman, fully intending to knock her out quickly. He wasn't prepared for the sweeping blow from her left leg that crashed into his jaw, with as smooth a motion as he'd ever witnessed.

Colored dots flashed before his eyes as he lay flat on his back on the concrete, stunned by the power behind the woman's kick. Takumi lingered on the edge of reality and a dream, uncertain if anything happening around him was real. The sound of a gunshot registered strongly above him, and rang in his ears for several seconds.

The next thing of which Takumi was aware was someone dragging him upright on unwilling legs. Two sharp slaps across his face brought objects back into focus, and he found himself staring at one of the demons. It took him a moment to realize that another one of them was responsible for holding him on his feet.

"No, I still don't think we should risk it."

Takumi heard a snippet of English coming from behind the red-masked demon facing him.

"We need to leave," someone else said insistently.

The Shitenno before him broke eye contact with Takumi as he spun around. "Leave? But we still don't know anything, Leo! We can't walk away from these idiots without getting some information!" The demon turned a blazing glare back on Takumi. "They're not getting away with this, Fearless."

Over the demon's shoulder, Takumi suddenly caught a glimpse of Daichi motionless on the floor, with the broken posture of a dead man. He swallowed fearfully, and called upon his last resort.

"Swear to kill me quickly, and I will tell you what I know," Takumi volunteered in English.

The blue-masked demon pushed past the other. "Why should we show _you_ mercy when you showed none to our brother or our friend?"

"Because I could have killed you brother, and I chose not to. I let him go. I was there in the apartment, after Daichi-san made his foolish move."

"You were there," the leader said suspiciously. "Why would you let him go?"

"I was afraid," he said honestly, expecting that the demon would see through a lie. "Daichi was injured, and then there was an alarm. My companion and I only took the time to save Daichi-san, and fled."

"What kind of alarm?" the Shitenno pressed.

"I don't know…it was strange. It came from out of nowhere, but it sounded as if it were close by, in one of the other rooms."

"I believe I can accept your proposal," the blue one stated formally. "Mike, will you handle him please?"

Takumi swore he heard the creature behind him chuckle.

"I thought you'd never ask, Leo. See ya in a little while, dude."

Takumi took a deep breath right before a sharp blow connected with his head.

* * *

><p>A cool breeze was the next thing that registered in the warrior's consciousness. He opened his eyes to find himself already propped up against a solid surface. He looked around in confusion, instantly realizing that he was outside. Takumi stared at the open sky above him for a moment, before focusing on where he was sitting.<p>

Takumi took in the sight of the roof-top first and the dark shadows of the Shitenno afterward. As he tried to shift positions, he found that his hands were lashed tightly behind his back, although his legs remained free.

He cleared his throat nervously. "Where are we?" Takumi cringed as one of the demons approached him.

"I thought we could do a little reconstruction."

Takumi recognized the even tone of the blue-masked demon. "What do you mean?"

The man held his breath as the Shitenno pulled him to his feet, and pointed at a building adjacent to the one upon which they were perched.

"I want you to run through the other night with me. Give me the whole sequence of events, from start to finish."

"We…we watched the apartment for weeks," Takumi said slowly. "We even went inside a couple of times. The other man, the Agent, we were after _him_. But Daichi-san was satisfied with James. We saw the itinerary on one of the break-ins, and we knew James was leaving. Daichi-san chose to act when it seemed his presence would go unnoticed."

"You broke in more than once without either Greg or Brandon noticing? I don't know if I can believe that," the demon replied sharply.

"I am good with locks," Takumi said defensively, before realizing that announcing his own involvement was not wise.

"_Are_ you?" The creature's tone was flat and dangerous. "I guess we have you to thank for turning Daichi loose, don't we?"

Takumi said nothing, deciding to let the demon think whatever he wanted to believe.

"So you planned in advance to take Brandon," the Shitenno continued.

"Yes."

"Why? What did Daichi want with him?"

"I am not sure, that is, Daichi-san was not….forthright. He wanted information from James, something that would make him look good to Takashi."

"In other words, all of this was only some misguided attempt to prove himself," the demon said bitterly. "How did my _brother_ come into play?"

"We were not expecting him, but one of our watchmen saw him coming across the rooftops. We were in a position to catch him off guard, which is what we attempted to do. It was more difficult than we were prepared for.

"Daichi-san used a taser to disable him but the effects didn't last. We were still in the process of fleeing when the…your brother came back to life, quite suddenly. He made another attempt to escape using a cable wire." Takumi turned to face the ledge, nodding his head to indicate the direction since he couldn't use his hands.

"Daichi-san followed him, and caused the wire to snap. They ended up both crashing down there, into one of the apartments—"

"We were there," the Shitenno snapped. "What happened next?"

"My remaining companion and I found another way over, and discovered that they were both hurt. I considered taking your brother's life, but I spared him. If that does not earn me the right to a quick death, nothing will."

"Slow down, we're not there yet," the demon said crisply. "I have a number of other questions for you."

"I have told you all that I know of that evening."

"That doesn't mean I'm finished with you. I want to know who sent Daichi. Why did he come here?"

"Who sent him?" Takumi repeated dumbly.

"Yes, _someone_ directed his actions, and I want to know who it is."

"You don't understand. Daichi-san acted alone with James, and your brother. No one ordered him to do those things."

"But someone _did_ send him back to US soil! I want to know who gave him the marching orders, and I will not ask you nicely again."

The creature's increasingly hostile posture was making Takumi's heart beat faster.

"The only one he ever talked with was Yukiko-san," he answered.

The speaker jolted as if he'd been shot. "_What_?"

Behind him, another of the Shitenno strode forward. "You lie!" he said accusingly. "I saw that woman die right in front of me. Yukiko didn't send _anyone_."

Takumi wilted further under the angry amber eyes of the red-masked demon. "It's the truth," he wavered. "Daichi-san said he was talking to her. He told us of no others."

"You're a rotten liar!" The second demon had him by the shirt and slammed him against the ledge before he could utter another word.

"There is no one else!" Takumi insisted.

"You're _absolutely_ sure about that?" the creature seethed.

All at once, Takumi had nothing but open air at his back, as the demon dangled him slightly over the edge of the building. The natural instinct to survive activated every ounce of desperation inside him.

"No! No, it's true! He told us it was Yukiko! Why would I lie about that? _Why_?"

A sob tore through his throat before the creature yanked him back over the ledge, and deposited him roughly on the rooftop with obvious contempt.

"Raph, step off," the first one told the other.

Takumi breathed in relief, but his relaxation didn't have time to settle before the blue-masked demon bent down to his level. He couldn't help noticing the way the creature's hand brushed the hilt of one of his katana.

"Did you ever speak to Yukiko?" the Shitenno asked.

"_Me_? No, I'm no one!" Takumi insisted. "I am what you call…expendable? Unnecessary. Only Daichi-san conversed with Yukiko."

"Did you ever even hear her voice?"

Takumi considered the question, trying hard to remember. "No. I cannot say that I did."

"Then he may or may not have actually been talking to her." The demon's statement was directed toward one of his brothers.

"Leo, the chick is dead! I saw it with my own eyes!" the red one said fiercely.

"She thought she watched _you_ die too, Raph," the leader clipped, before focusing on Takumi again. "What about Takashi?"

"What about him? If you think I can give you some idea of the plan, you are mistaken."

"_What_ plan?"

"I told you I don't know what it is!"

"But you know there _is _one."

"All I know is that Daichi-san said Takashi-sama would return to New York City."

"Takashi's in prison. You know that, don't you?"

"I have heard as much."

"Then how could he be planning a trip to New York?"

"I said it already – I don't know! These are not the kinds of things Daichi-san shared with us. I don't think _he_ even knew how it would be accomplished!"

"Well then you're really not much help to us, are you?" the red one spoke up.

Takumi rolled sideways against the ledge as he heard the demon coming toward him again. "I said I would tell you what I knew. I ask only for a quick death. You said you would grant me that."

"Okay, big man, but I've got _another_ question," the second demon challenged. "That waterboarding thing? How long did you do that to Brandon?"

"It wasn't me, I didn't—"

"I'm talking about your people in general. How long?"

Takumi hesitated until the demon had his hands on him again, dragging him upright against the ledge. "I don't know! Hours! He would not talk, so Daichi-san ordered for it to continue!"

"That's a pretty vague answer." The orange-masked demon came up behind the other two. "I mean, there's a big difference between two hours and ten."

"It was on and off for a few minutes at a time…" Takumi was unwilling to guess how many times the man had actually been tortured.

The fury of all three of the demons facing him had never been more acute than it felt now. _I think my chance for mercy is far removed. Better to finish now, finish quickly. _Takumi could feel the ledge behind him, and the answer in his own mind was clear.

Without another thought or spoken word, he jerked backwards against the edge of the roof as hard as he could and went airborne. The last thing he knew was the wind rushing against his back as the ground sprang up to meet him.


	21. Revenge

***Though it may not feel significiant in the scheme of things, this was one of the most important chapters in Watchmen to me, because Leonardo drives home such an important point. Gotta love a guy who can get right to the heart of a matter.**

* * *

><p>Leonardo eyed the somber faces of his younger brothers as they trooped inside the Den, supposing that he was probably looking at a mirror image of himself. The minute he realized how anxiously the women were waiting for them, he regretted not calling anyone when they were finished with their Asian captive. In truth, he'd felt too sick to his stomach to consider making the phone call immediately.<p>

There was a rush of feet from the living area, and Calley was beside him in a flash.

"Leo, we've been so worried! Are you…" She broke off, staring at him pensively.

_Trying to get a read on me, no doubt. It's hard to get anything past this woman._

"Are you all right?" Calley finished.

Leonardo cast a glance over his shoulder at his brothers with their respective wives, and then looked back at Calley. "They never touched us, Calley. These were far from the Akiudo's best warriors, with the exception of Daichi. But we got the drop on _him_ before he even realized what had happened."

"Yes, Kat told us." Calley continued to gaze at him without breaking eye contact for a few seconds. "C'mon and sit down, you guys. All of you look…overwhelmed."

"It's been that kinda night," Raphael said heavily.

Leonardo walked silently to the couch, sinking into one of the cushions with the sensation that a large weight was bearing down on his shell. He shot another cursory glance at his brothers as they walked further into the room.

Raphael's face was emotionless as he dropped into his chair, giving away none of the normal smugness he would often display after an evening of kicking tail and remaining uninjured in return. There was no hint of a smile in Mike's eyes either, though he was quick to extend an arm around Rebecca as they settled onto the other couch. Leo believed that the touch was more related to his brother's need for her acceptance, rather than offering her encouragement of his own.

"Stay put, guys," Karina directed. "We'll get you something to drink. Is anyone hungry at all?"

Leonardo shook his head. "I don't think so," he murmured. "Everything is still…sinking in."

"I'll be back," Karina said briskly.

Leo made quick eye contact with Jenna before the raven-haired woman turned for the kitchen too.

"I'm going to help Karina," she told Leo. "Try to unwind and relax a little."

Footsteps in the hall announced Katherine's presence before the woman hurried into the living area. "Good, you're back." She sounded relieved. "I was ready to go out looking for all of you."

Leonardo sighed softly. "Sorry we didn't call. Things didn't go exactly the way we planned."

"Is everything all right? Are _you_ all right?" Katherine was instantly concerned.

"Yeah, _we_ are, but our informant isn't," Raphael volunteered. "He jumped off a building, and I do mean _he_ jumped."

Kat sat down with a sharp breath. "Well…" It was clear the woman didn't know what to say. "Did he tell you anything helpful?"

The blue-masked turtle shrugged. "Maybe. He laid out what happened that evening between the gang, Brandon, and Don. He also acknowledged that Takashi has a plan and wants to return to that States, but he didn't know what the plan is or how he intends to get here."

"What about the phone conversation, Leo? Who was Daichi answering to? Who sent him back here?" Kat asked.

"That's the weirdest part," Leo confessed. "The guy swore up and down that Daichi was taking orders from Yukiko."

Katherine's mouth dropped, and it took her a moment to find her voice. "Yukiko? How can that be?"

"It isn't, that's how," Raphael said darkly. "Either the guy was lying to us, or Daichi was lying to _them_."

"Raph, we don't know that," Leonardo pointed out.

"I was _there_ when her heart stopped beating, Leo."

"I'm not saying she _is_ alive, Raph, but something is strange about all of this. Why would Daichi use her name as a cover for someone else? And if she isn't organizing this effort, then who is?"

No one in the room had another suggestion.

"So, are you saying Yukiko could have been the one behind the plot to get information out of Brandon?" Kat clarified.

"No," Leo answered. "Our informant claimed that Daichi was acting alone in that respect, that it was all his own idea."

Katherine stared at the floor before bringing herself to meet Leonardo's gaze again. "You believe me, don't you? I swear Daichi was _this_ close to snapping Tim's neck." She held up two fingers in a pinch-like gesture to illustrate her point. "Shooting him was pure instinct."

"Kat, we know you were only defending Tim. He told us so himself," Leonardo said patiently. "How is he by the way?"

"He's fine," she replied. "Nothing but abrasions. Victoria insisted on taking Tim home, so he's probably resting now."

Leo shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, about that…I'm kind of concerned about everyone's safety on the surface. Yes, Daichi is out of the way, but this isn't finished. Whether it's Yukiko or someone else, there's an enemy looking for us. If this was a sign of things to come, _all_ of you might need to lie low."

Katherine looked troubled. "I hadn't given it much thought, but I guess we need to, huh?"

The hiss of the kitchen door had Leonardo turning his head to see Karina and Jenna returning.

"What's going on with Brandon?" Leo forced himself to ask.

"I told the docs to set him up in mine and Donny's room," Jenna said stoically, offering him a mug. "I'm not sleeping there anyway. I just didn't want Brandon to wake up in the Lab and have Don be the first thing he sees. I think he's probably been traumatized enough."

Mike took a long drink of the bottled water Karina had given him, but then appeared to be crushing the plastic container in his grip. "I can't stand this," he said hoarsely. "I don't wanna think about what they did to Bran, all because…" The orange-masked turtle looked between Leonardo and Raphael instead of finishing.

Rebecca braced an arm around him. "Don't say it, Mike. This was _not_ your fault."

Michelangelo slowly separated from her side. "Yes it was. Saying it's not our fault doesn't change the fact that they hurt him to get to _us_."

Both anger and frustration entered his youngest brother's voice, and Leonardo identified with it strongly. Mike got to his feet and strode out of the living area. Rebecca rapidly pursued him, and Leonardo decided to let the young woman handle him for the time being.

"We don't blame you," Kat spoke up at once. "I know it might not mean anything, but Karina and I stand by all of you, guys. You're not responsible for what those evil men did, but you _are_ the reason we got Brandon back."

Leonardo took a sip from his tea to satisfy the small effort Karina and Jenna had made. "Emotions are running really high, and we're all going to need to be patient with each other," he said. "Do the docs have a prognosis on Brandon?"

"They concentrated on treating his injuries," Katherine replied. "He hasn't responded to anything yet. He opens his eyes, but his gaze is just…dead, like he's not even in there. Luke said Bran would snap out of it with time."

Leo nodded as a numb feeling spread over his mind.

"Brandon will be himself again," Raphael said confidently. "He's too strong to be broken by scum like them."

Leonardo dutifully drank his tea, and didn't offer any further information about their exploits from that evening. Calley remained at his side, not bothering to speak either. He didn't see any sign of Mike or Rebecca returning, and Raphael and Karina eventually separated from the rest of them too. Katherine stepped way to return to Brandon's side. The living area was down to him, Calley, and Jenna, and he felt his eyes being drawn toward the Lab, as a desire to see Donny overtook him.

The blue-masked turtle traced a hand over Calley's ivory cheekbone, and brushed blond bangs from her forehead tenderly. "It's late. Why don't you head back, and I'll join you in a little while. I want to look in on Don."

She nodded after a beat of hesitation, and stretched a hand toward Jenna. "C'mon, Jen. I can show you that thing I was talking about earlier."

Leonardo watched gratefully as his wife took charge of the raven-haired woman, moved by the ease with which Jenna went along with her. Then he ducked his head through the door to the Lab, and found Caleb guarding the fort.

"Hey," Leo offered.

"Hi, Leo." Caleb rose to meet him. "Come to see your brother, or do you need something from me?"

"I just want to sit with him for a while," he replied. "Um…would you terribly mind giving me a couple of minutes?"

Caleb appeared to understand what he was asking. "Yeah, that's fine, Leo. I'll check on you in a little bit, okay?"

Leonardo nodded, taking a seat at his prone brother's side as Caleb shut the door behind him. His throat suddenly felt dry, even though he'd had plenty to drink. For a few seconds he sat in an overwhelmed silence, then his hand strayed to Don's arm, gripping it firmly as he began.

"We took them out, Donny, the guys who did this to you and Bran. Pockets of the Akiudo are alive and well right under our noses, and we had no idea. Daichi is dead, and hopefully the others can be returned to jail.

"When we first went in there tonight, I was fighting with so much anger. I expected there to be some release when it was over. I thought there would be a tiny shred of relief that they'd paid for what they did to both of you. They _really_ hurt Brandon, Don."

Leonardo braced a fist against his forehead as tears came. "Seeing Bran the first time, shell, Donny, I wanted to round up all those thugs and kill them on the spot. But we didn't do that – we didn't even lay hands on Daichi. Kat shot him to save Tim. Another man committed suicide tonight, while we were pushing him for information.

"In the eyes of most people, it could be said that they paid for their crimes. They got what they deserved. But the more I think about, the more I realize that it changes _nothing_. It doesn't make me feel better about how badly you're hurt, or how Brandon was tortured. If anything, I feel _emptier_ because the threat has been neutralized, and there's nothing left to do. We can only sit back and hope that both of you can recover from this."

Tears came faster as he buried his forehead in one hand. "Sensei was right. Violence can't be the ultimate means to an end. It won't satisfy a broken heart, and it can't undo a grievous hurt. He taught us the way of _defense_, not revenge.

"All of us wanted revenge tonight, Don; I won't pretend that we didn't. I can't tell you how hard it was to rein myself in, or about the sick pleasure I experienced in destroying those warriors. But the satisfaction didn't last, Bro. Sensei taught us too well. Watching that man jump to his death, I didn't feel victorious. I felt sick for pushing him to feel that desperate, to think that death by his own hand was better than facing us. I don't want to be the demons that they think we are."

He took a shuddering breath, and squeezed Donny's arm tighter. "I wish this was over, Don, but it's not. There's still a faction of the Akiudo out there, and they're plotting something against us as I speak. But I swear to you, no matter what happens, I won't let them make a monster out of me, or any of us. No revenge is worth that."


	22. Responsibility

Michelangelo had done everything in his power to exhaust himself, but rest eluded him. It was morning, and he'd probably only had a couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep on the couch. Rebecca had removed herself so she would be able to care for Nathaniel, a responsibility that Mike was glad _one_ of them could uphold.

He felt like he was on the verge of passing out, but when he closed his eyes the darkness shifted, creating images the turtle didn't want to see. That was how he came to be sitting in the middle of the controlled chaos in the living area, practically oblivious to it.

Olivia and Reina were up to no good, fighting over a single toy that Raphael had finally taken away from them, only for both girls to dissolve into tears. Mike's natural instinct was to pick one of them up when they were crying, but he couldn't bring himself to move.

The entrance of Molly and Noah into the living area provided all the distraction that was needed, and the babies were squealing with happiness once more. Mike rested his head against the back of the couch, ignoring the gaze he sensed coming from Raphael. He didn't want to talk about the night before. He didn't feel like speaking _period_.

Michelangelo turned his head as the kitchen door opened, noting his wife as she came out with a fussing Nate.

"Mikey, I think he wants _you_," she suggested.

The orange-masked turtle sat upright on the couch, accepting the baby into his outstretched arms. He braced Nathaniel against his shoulder, patting his shell lightly. "Its okay, Nate, Dad's still here." His eyes flicked back to Rebecca, who was hovering nearby. "I'm still here," he said pointedly.

"Of course you are, Mike," she returned. "Nate might be willing to lie down if you'd like to go with him."

"I'm all right, Beck."

Her expression suggested that she didn't seem convinced. "Are you sure I can't make you anything?"

"Thanks, I'm not hungry."

Michelangelo rocked back and forth as he soothed the baby, then cradled Nate against his plastron so he could see the little turtle's face. Rebecca's blue-green eyes peered up at him through Nathaniel, and the baby's small fingers latched onto his arm.

"You're a good boy, Nate, you're fine," Mike told him.

Mike felt a tap on his knee, and glanced down to see Reina. The blond girl was staring at him imploringly.

"Baby," she pronounced clearly.

"You wanna see your cousin, Reina?"

The human girl was struggling to climb onto the couch, and Mike caught the back of her shirt to help her up the rest of the way. Reina gave him a toothy grin as she leaned over Mike's lap.

"Baby!" she repeated.

"That's right, Reina," Mike told her. "You were this small once too. Do you wanna give your cousin a kiss?"

Michelangelo loved how easily Luke and Katherine's daughter took to Olivia, and now to Nate. It was nothing for the little girl to kiss the baby on the cheek, and she appeared to love doing it. _It's all normal to Reina, _we're_ normal. It's too bad more kids can't be raised this way. We might actually have a shot in this world._

A disapproving whine announced Olivia's presence at his feet. His niece was clearly not pleased with being left out of the party on the couch. Mike made sure that Reina was sitting down, then used his free hand to pull Olivia onto the cushion too. The little turtle steadied herself on the back of the couch, and immediately started bouncing up and down.

"No," Mike said firmly. "No jumping, Liv, or you have to get down."

Raphael shook his head from the chair. "Do you have some kind of magnet, Mikey?"

A small smile crept onto the orange-masked turtle's face. "What can I say? Kids are drawn to me."

"They know a good thing when they see it," Rebecca offered from behind him.

Mike hadn't realized that the young woman was still there. "You planned this," he said mock-accusingly.

"Mike, I'm not that smart." She grinned.

"Yes you are," he said affectionately.

The feeling of being surrounded by the young ones was one of the few things that _could _have made him smile. Unfortunately, Reina and Olivia were having far too much fun encouraging each other to jump on the couch for it to last long.

The red-masked turtle stepped over and swept Olivia off the couch as the baby squawked in protest. "I'm not gonna let you hurt yourself, _Kouen_; the docs are busy enough."

The door to the kitchen swung open again, and Karina met Raphael by the couch.

"It's about time the girls ate something," the Latin woman said. "And a few other people." Karina fixed Mike with a _look_. "Does anyone know where Kat is?"

"With Bran," Mike said flatly.

Karina nodded. "Well…we can start with the little ones. You want to bring Liv, Raph? I'll grab Reina."

"What about Nate, Beck?" Mike asked.

"He's fine," the young woman assured him. "He had a bottle a few minutes ago. Let me know when you're too tired, Mike. You don't have to hang onto him."

"I'm cool," he said, noticing the mighty yawn his son gave him. "He might be going to sleep on me."

"You could go together," Rebecca told him.

"Becky, I know what you're doing, okay? I'll be all right for a while longer. Greg's gonna be here any time, and I want to wait for him."

"Okay, Mike, I'll stop pushing," she said lightly. "I'm going to help Karina finish a few things, but I won't forget that you're out here."

He smiled at her faintly, and resumed cuddling a drowsy Nathaniel. As Mike rested against the back of the couch, his thoughts drifted to Donny once more. It was a surreal feeling to have his purple-masked brother lying in the next room, with a questionable chance for recovery.

In the back of his mind he kept expecting Don to come through the Lab door like normal to talk about his latest project, or to bug him for more chapters of the story Mike considered little more than a hobby. Donny saw his writing differently, and had often told him so. Besides Brandon, Donatello was the only one who'd read everything he'd written up to that point.

Mike's head lolled against his shoulder unhappily. _I remember getting this same feeling after Sensei passed away. In my head I knew he was gone, but some part of me still kept expecting him to magically walk through the door. It's like my mind is playing tricks on me, and I don't like it._

He looked down and realized that Nate was sound asleep. Michelangelo carefully got to his feet and headed upstairs to the bedroom he shared with Rebecca. He laid Nate in the bassinet, and silently left the room. As soon as his feet touched the hallway, he heard a knock on the heavy door downstairs.

All caution nearly went to the wind, but the turtle remembered to be quiet as he descended the stairs to the first level. Mike threw open the door to meet a grim-faced Greg.

"Hey," the man greeted him dully.

Mike felt the man's eyes perusing him, as if making certain he was all right. He didn't bother with a greeting of his own, but simply wrapped his arms around his friend instead. The taller man embraced him fiercely in return.

"I'm sorry," Greg said. "I got here as soon as I could. Are you okay, Mikey?"

"Okay?" he echoed. "No, I can't say that I am." Mike let go of him, and backed up to allow Greg inside the Den. "But it's not about me."

Greg looked around the empty living area. "Where is everyone?"

"Around," Mike said vaguely. "Donny's in the Lab and Bran is set up in his and Jen's room. You're gonna need to prepare yourself before you see either of them."

The man nodded. "I guess…I'd rather do that up front." Greg stood still in the hallway, like he needed time to work up to moving.

"Maybe you can check in with Brandon first. Kat's in there with him, and I know she'd like to see you."

"Is he still out of it?"

"The last I knew. I'm going to go tell Leo you're here, and I'll catch up with you."

The sandy-haired man turned down the hall to go to the bedroom, and Mike went the opposite direction to the dojo. He pushed the door open to find his oldest brother stretching on the mat, with Calley sitting close by. Leonardo looked up expectantly as he entered.

"I thought you'd be asleep by now." There was a reproachful note to Leonardo's tone, but Mike ignored it.

"Greg is here," he told him.

Leo rose at once. "Good…we have a lot to talk about."

"He wants to visit with Donny and Brandon first."

The blue-masked turtle's shoulders slumped. "He knows what he's walking into?"

"Doc said he was detailed with Greg over the phone, Leo. No sense in surprising him."

"No," Leo murmured.

"Let's go wait for him, Leo," Calley suggested, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Karina and Becky probably have lunch ready," Mike added. "I haven't told anyone else that Heff is here yet."

"We'll handle that. Do you want to make sure that Greg is okay?" Leo asked.

"That was my next stop," Mike replied.

They went their separate directions in the hall, and Mike hesitated outside the bedroom door that was partially ajar. Katherine pulled the door the rest of the way open, and stepped aside for the turtle.

"C'mon in, Mike."

As she looked like she was going to leave, he held up a hand to stop her. "Wait, Kat. You don't have to go because of me."

"I need some air, Mikey. I'm going for a walk. Take care of my brother while I'm gone?"

Mike blinked back the tears that the question produced. "Yeah, Kat. We won't leave him."

As he turned his head, he saw that Greg was already seated in the hard-backed chair close to the bed. His chin was resting in his hand so that Mike couldn't see the man's expression, but Greg's emotion was evidenced by his silence. Minutes passed before Greg said so much as a word.

"I…I don't understand," he said hoarsely. "Why? Why would they start this up again? _How_ did Daichi escape their fortress on Yonaguni?"

"You can blame _me_ for that," Mike replied bitterly. "I'm the one who let him off."

Greg's head jerked around to face him. "You didn't 'let him off', Mikey. You left him behind to face the flood or the police. If one didn't get him, the other one should have."

"They didn't," Mike said shortly. _Shell, I'm glad Greg wasn't there with us yesterday. I'm glad he didn't have to see Bran the way we found him. I'm probably never gonna forget that._

For the moment Brandon appeared to be sleeping, and Mike was glad. He preferred the man to rest rather than to face his golden-brown eyes devoid of life.

"Doc said that he was…tortured?" Greg ventured.

Mike nodded, breathing deeply as rage seared through his veins. "We found him strapped to one of those things, the table they use for waterboarding somebody."

Greg appeared to be trying to hide further behind his hand. "They say that the average person can only withstand a few seconds of waterboarding before they start spilling their guts."

"The dude we took last night said that Brandon didn't talk."

Greg shook his head. "He's not an average person…and this is no average secret."

Michelangelo hung his head, unable to meet Greg's eyes. "It's wrong. Nobody should suffer like that, least of all one of you guys."

"Would it be better if it was one of you?" Greg caught what he'd inferred.

"We're the ones they _want_." Mike's voice rose unintentionally.

"You make it sound like you and your brothers are a team unto yourselves," Greg said. "We _choose_ to throw in our lots with you, Mike, and we all understand what that means. Equal shares in loyalty and danger. If Bran got to decide, I don't think he would have wished that one of you were in his shoes."

"It isn't _fair_, Greg, nothing about this is fair! He didn't have to go through any of it – he shouldn't have! I _knew_ when Donny was in trouble! Why didn't I catch it with Brandon?"

The man rose slowly. "My God, Mikey. You can't blame yourself for _everything_. You have to find some way to put the responsibility back where it actually lies, or this is going to drive you out of your mind."

Mike backed up against the wall with a sob. "You don't get what this is like, having someone suffer because of _you._"

Greg leaned against the wall beside him. "Evil doesn't exist _because_ you do, Mike. The ultimate source of everything unholy isn't tied to you and your brothers. Bad things happen all over the globe that have nothing to do with you. This feels personal because it _is_. But at the root, it's just another story of evil men, treating other people however they please.

"In other words, it's the same story that's been acted out since the dawn of time. You're not the source of that evil. You're not responsible for it. Our lives intersect with these events, and our loved ones suffer. But you guys are not accountable for it.

"Going down this path won't help anyone, Mike. The best thing for you to do is to see the actions for what they are: an attack carried out on this family by bad people. Otherwise, you're never going to get over it."


	23. Ghost

The Den was quiet, and Raphael hated the silence. He was frustrated by the reappearance of the "ghost" of the Akiudo, but even more so by the idea that Yukiko might be leading them.

_If that woman's out there – and it's a pretty big if, _he thought begrudgingly. _I wager she could still do a lot of damage without Takashi around. Daichi made a mess of things for us, but he blundered his way through it. If Yukiko had been here, it wouldn't have been so easy to get Brandon back. And Donny would have either been dead on the spot or a captive right along with Bran._

Raphael shifted on his perch near the van entrance to the sewer, staring outside bleakly. He _felt _like running with the newfound strength in his legs that he'd worked so hard to attain in the months following his crushing injury from the earthquake. Even though he was capable of making the trek now, there would be no going out alone, not any time in the near future. Leo had made sure to state that emphatically earlier that day.

While the strong-willed turtle didn't like it, he had to agree with Leonardo. _We don't have a darn clue what's out there, or who we could be coming up against._

In the deepest recesses of his mind, the red-masked turtle was afraid. The notion that Takashi might have a ground plan for getting back into the United States was disturbing to say the least. _Takashi wouldn't have a plan if he didn't think he could pull it off. Shell, they broke Blackford out of prison so they could use him against us. Who's to say they won't try something like that with Takashi?_

The Akiudo's brilliance in utilizing Blackford, a bounty hunter who was already familiar with the turtles, had almost been the end of Raphael. He could still remember the night in Chelsea, and it brought up a sick feeling in his stomach that he'd hoped he'd never have to feel again.

He and Mike had been ambushed at Luke's former home along with some of the women, in an assault that climaxed with Yukiko's naginata plunging through his plastron, and the Akiudo leaving him for dead.

_I told myself if I had the chance to confront her again, Yukiko would be finished for sure. I got the meeting I wanted, and I _thought _it was over, but now everything's upside down. Did I get it wrong? I swear her heartbeat disappeared after I hit her with that injection she was trying to use on _me_. I didn't imagine it – I couldn't have!_

Raphael growled angrily as he changed positions. _But if she's not calling the shots, who is? I guess Daichi could have been lying, and told his goons that he'd been "sent" to earn some more credibility with them. But no…Fearless said he was talking to some other source on the phone, complaining about not having enough resources. _

_There's got to be some other leader in the mix. If it's honestly Yukiko, I'm driving a stake through her heart this time. Nobody messes with my family. Nobody is gonna get away with what they did to Donny and Bran._

Another growl erupted as he shifted again, and flopped back down on the edge of the tunnel. _I need something else to do. I wanna know where the next target is so I can go after it, instead of sitting around waiting for it to attack me or someone else I care about._

With the invasion of Greg and Brandon's apartment, it suddenly felt like no one could be safe on the surface. He didn't even like the thought that April had gone home temporarily, or that Tim and Victoria were continuing to stay above ground.

_I feel like they're just sitting ducks for any _good_ warriors that come along. Tim has his gun, but that didn't stop Daichi from nearly killing him. I mean, we might not have the most room in the world down here, but better safe than _dead_. _Raphael heaved a heavy sigh. _It's possible the Akiudo might not connect any of them with us. Greg was pretty obvious because of the way he turned up in the international news last time, and then he was in Okinawa with us. I just don't like taking the chance along with everything else that's already gone wrong._

He was weary of thinking and of all the questions. Raphael willfully quieted his mind, and observed what he could see of the outside world. The lights of the city were undimmed, but this wasn't how he preferred to look at them.

From inside the tunnel the two worlds barely overlapped, and the turtle felt far removed from New York. His present isolation made him feel colder than ice. Raphael's first choice was to be _above_ the city, at a safe distance from lights and activity, but still a silent partner with the life that carried on below him.

He pondered the shadows that were surrounding the open tunnel, instinctively studying each corner in the lingering twilight, as though an enemy could be hiding there. The darkness was both his ally and his opponent. The turtles relied heavily upon the cover of night for their ability to move without being seen, and the chance to make a difference in the world surrounding them.

At the same time, Raphael often felt choked by the constant darkness within which was their only option to live. The bright vision of _Lotus Salvus _often lingered at the forefront of his mind. The "refuge" to which they'd retreated in the mountains of North Carolina after the earthquake possessed bad memories for Raphael of his helplessness in being unable to walk, and of Mike's own fight for survival.

Yet in that place they'd also been exposed to light and the natural beauty of the Earth for a longer period of time than he or his brothers had ever experienced. _Closest thing to Paradise that we've ever had. Now part of me is wishing that we'd never left, that we would have just stayed where we were safe and hidden from anything that could hurt us. _Raphael cringed at the parting thought that ran through his mind.

_We're ninja. We don't run away and hide from danger. We might have to regroup, but we're gonna take care of business, period. _The red-masked turtle drew his legs up to his chest. _We still can't fix everything. We can't make Donny or Brandon be okay. There's no way to snap our fingers and go back in time to undo things. _

_So what are we supposed to do_, besides_ wait? I'll go crazy if I don't have something else to focus on other than sitting around to see if Don is gonna live or die. I don't know what the answer is, but I guess I'm not gonna find it here._

Raphael glanced at his watch. _Someone's probably got dinner going already, and Olivia will go to bed not long after. I don't wanna get in the habit of leaving her out with my comings and goings. Hopefully I'll make it back before Karina puts Liv down._

He got to his feet and started for home. After a couple of strides Raphael picked up his pace, sometimes sprinting through areas of the tunnel where he knew his footing was the most sure. He didn't keep track of how long it took him to get there, but judging by the slightly breathless quality in his lungs, he could guess he'd made good time.

Raphael let himself in the main door, and was greeted by a smell that instantly _made_ him hungry, though he hadn't noticed the need before. He was glad to see both Reina and Olivia on the floor of the living area, playing inside a plastic laundry basket.

_They like the most random stuff, I swear. What they _really_ love is being together. Nate needs to get bigger so he can get in on the action too, _he thought impishly.

When the little turtle saw him, Olivia stood up in the basket, raising her hands toward the ceiling. "Dada!"

Raphael reached down to retrieve her. "Hey, baby girl. You playing nice with your cousin?"

"They fought over the basket at first, until they figured out that they could both fit inside," Jenna offered.

Raphael looked at the raven-haired woman with a flash of concern. Jenna had been spending very little time out in the open, preferring to stay with Donny unless she was doing something else to help around the Den. He had the sense that she was drawing inward, despite the best efforts of the other women.

Jenna's light blue eyes bore the weight of her grief, although she managed a smile for Raphael that _almost_ felt genuine.

"You been watching them long?" Raphael tried to sound casual.

Jenna shrugged. "It's something I can keep busy with."

_Shell, she sounds like me. Jen needs some kind of release as badly as the rest of us. Maybe if she got a little encouragement in the right direction…_

Raphael's phone vibrated on his belt, and he picked it up curiously. A half-smile appeared when he realized that it was Karina. "Hey, Chica, what's up?"

"Are you coming back soon, Tortuga?"

Raphael trotted toward the kitchen door with Olivia and stuck his head inside the room. "Is that soon enough for ya?" He smirked.

"You must have smelled dinner from a mile away." She chuckled.

"It _does_ smell really good," he acknowledged.

"It's still got about ten minutes on it, so feel free to occupy your daughter."

Raphael reached his free arm toward the Latin woman to draw her in for a quick embrace, and Karina bent in to kiss him softly.

"Are you all right, Raph?"

"I don't know. I'm trying to be," he said honestly. "Just need to find things to do."

"Liv will keep you on your toes," Karina said, affectionately smoothing a hand over the baby turtle's cheek.

"I was thinking I might try and help Jen out too," Raphael commented. "She needs an outlet."

"A physical one you mean? I don't think we'd considered that. Go for it, Raph, it should be familiar territory."

All four turtles had taken an active interest in the raven-haired woman's self-defense training over the last ten years, at Jenna's request. They'd focused on strength-building techniques and agility, rather than pure ninjutsu. Raphael was dearly proud of the lithe muscle tone and core strength that the woman had obtained.

"It won't hurt to invite her," Raphael replied.

"Go on then, so I can finish up making dinner with Calley. Everything will be ready soon, and maybe she'll be open to working out with you afterward."

Raphael returned to the living area, to find Jenna now sitting on the floor beside Reina, who was still playing in the laundry basket. "Hey, Jen, I was thinking after dinner that I'd get some more training in. You want in on it?"

The young woman didn't look at him immediately. "You don't have to take pity on me, Raph," she said quietly. "I'm not going to self-destruct – at least, not yet."

The red-masked turtle dropped to the floor beside her, and released Olivia so that she could return to playing with Reina. Jenna automatically reached to steady the basket as Liv crawled back inside.

"Look, we _both_ want something to do, Jen. Working out would be just as good for me as it would be for you," he pointed out.

Jenna cocked her head as she considered it. "Well…I am pretty stiff from sitting for so long. I guess a change in the line-up _would _be nice."

Raphael nodded eagerly as she made eye contact with him. Jenna only held his gaze for a couple of seconds before looking away once more.

"Thanks for caring, Raph."

He made a scoffing sound. "It's nothing, Jen. What are brothers for anyway?"


	24. Traumatized

When Leonardo awoke the next morning, part him didn't even want to get up. He'd been fighting with discouragement tooth and nail, and he didn't feel like dealing with the battle. The blue-masked turtle lay silently beside Calley, watching her sleep.

_This isn't easy for any of us, but we're _not_ going to shut down. I can't allow myself to be overwhelmed, no matter how I feel. I've got to find the energy to encourage myself, so I can lift the others up too. _

_I know it's not _all_ on my shoulders. Mike was better last night, and I'm pretty sure Greg had a lot to do with it. Raph took the initiative to get Jenna involved in something else, _he reminded himself. _At the same time, I still don't feel like there's very much room to breathe._

Concern for Donatello's life that was hanging in the balance and Brandon's well being was accompanied by the anxiety of that which was yet to come. _We know that part of the Akiudo is out there now, and that they're up to _something,_ but that's not very much help. I don't know what to do on that front. If we were in Okinawa and we had Donny's help, he'd probably come up with some ideas for tracking their movement. But we're almost 8,000 miles away from there, and Don_…

Leonardo rolled over onto his side. _The world isn't going to wait for me to catch up. I just have to do the best I can; whatever that means for the moment. _The desire to see Donatello was overwhelming his wish to hide in his unhappiness. He got out of bed slowly so that he wouldn't disturb Calley.

He paused out in the hall to check the time on his watch. _Almost 6am. Maybe one of the docs is ready for a break. _Leonardo was turning toward the Lab, when he heard a crash from the direction of Don and Jenna's bedroom. He didn't hesitate to think or wonder what the sound was; he strode rapidly to his brother's room.

Leonardo was shocked to find Luke on the ground, gasping for breath. "Doc!"

His first reaction was to assist the man, but Luke quickly waved him off, motioning a hand toward the bed. The turtle looked over and saw Brandon tensed, as if preparing to strike. As Leonardo carefully approached, the injured man tried to sit up further, drawing his broken arm protectively against his chest.

The wild look in Brandon's eyes was more welcome than the lifeless shell the man _had_ been, but Leonardo knew it was necessary to calm him down quickly before he hurt himself. Brandon groaned openly as he tried to utilize the muscles in his upper body, but the way he drew up his legs indicated that he still had a method of self defense.

The turtle stepped over a puddle of standing water on the concrete, and stopped a couple of inches short of the bed. "Brandon. Bran, where are you?" Leo asked, hoping to connect to his rational side. "Look at me. You know who I am. There are no Akiudo here, and nobody's going to hurt you. Search it out, Brandon. You know this room. You know my voice. Take a deep breath, and try to calm down."

Out of the corner of his eye, Leonardo saw Luke rigidly rising to his feet.

"I feel like I just got kicked by a horse," the man murmured. "No one ever said taking care of the warriors was easy."

"Are you okay, Doc?" Leo asked, never taking his eyes off Brandon.

"Yes," Luke replied. "He only winded me."

But the man stayed behind Leonardo, waiting to see what Brandon would do next. So far, Bran was only staring at the turtle without blinking or breathing.

"Brandon?" Leonardo called once more. "It's safe to come out now," he said uncertainly. "You're going to need to breathe again, if nothing else. Why don't you start there?"

The bronze-haired man swallowed, his face contorting as he tried to mask his fear.

"You don't have to be afraid," Leo assured him. "I don't know what those men put you through, but they can't hurt you here. You're home, Brandon. Well…you're in _our_ home, which is pretty much the same thing."

"Leo, let's get some more light in here," Luke suggested. "The environment may remind him too much of the basement where you found him."

"Good call, Doc." Leonardo kept his hands in plain sight as he reached to turn on another lamp, and Luke moved behind him to flip on the overhead lighting.

The combined sources cast a stronger glow across the room, and caused Brandon to blink rapidly.

"Look around, Brandon," Leonardo encouraged. "You're not a prisoner. It's okay to relax – you're not in any danger." The turtle shook his head as he suddenly noticed the IV lines that the man had ripped out. "The docs have been taking care of you, doing their very best to help."

Golden-brown eyes looked more confused than fearful now, shifting every direction as he took in his surroundings. "I…how did I get here?"

Brandon's voice was raw, but Leonardo was ecstatic to hear it. "We brought you here, Bran, about 36 hours ago. You're safe."

The man turned his head away from the turtle as a wracking cough tore through his chest. The physical effort the action took appeared to weaken Brandon. Leonardo dropped to his knees by the side of the bed, unwilling to end the conversation so quickly.

"Do you know where you are, Brandon?" he asked.

"The Den." The two-word answer seemed to be all he could manage.

"That's right," Leo said soothingly. "And you understand that no one's going to hurt you?"

The man made eye contact with him reluctantly. "Y-yes."

"I won't make you keep talking, Bran. I just wanted to make sure you understand that you're safe, and we're going to do whatever we can to make you more comfortable."

"Daichi…?" he croaked questioningly.

"He's dead," Leonardo said flatly.

"He was..."

Anything else Brandon was trying to say got lost in the next coughing fit that took him. Leonardo could tell how painful the episode was by the strain in the man's face. The blue-masked turtle glanced back at Luke, and reached for the doctor's arm.

"You remember Luke, right? Your brother-in-law. He's been helping you over the last several hours. He can make you feel better. Will you let Luke help you, Brandon?"

Brandon's eyes were uncertain for a few seconds, but softened after staring at the doctor. "Luke," he whispered.

"That's right," Luke said calmly. "There are a number of things I can do for you, Brandon, but I need to get your IV lines back in first. Is that okay?"

Brandon hesitated, looking back at Leonardo. The turtle started to reach for the man's shoulder, but Leonardo froze when Brandon stiffened.

"Doc's only here to help, Bran," Leo said firmly. "Do what he says. Trust him. Has he ever hurt you before?"

"No," the man said faintly.

Leonardo wasn't certain as to what the man's response meant, but Brandon finally released his injured arm from its locked position a moment later. The blond doctor took that as his sign to proceed, and immediately reached for the disconnected IV lines.

Leonardo stepped over to join Luke as the man made an adjustment to the machine. "He sounds pretty thirsty, Doc. I'll grab some water from the kitchen."

Luke shook his head and guided the turtle closer to the door. "He's not ready for that; the IV will keep him hydrated enough for the time being. I was going to try soaking his nails again to remove more of the embedded dirt. Bran saw the water I was using and completely freaked out. That was when he nearly kicked me across the room. We need to take things slowly, at _his_ pace. At least he recognized us, and he's going to let me help him. Good job calming him down."

Leonardo shrugged. "All I did was talk to him."

"Listen, I'm going to get him to a more comfortable place. He's definitely going to need heavier pain medication. That cough is putting his chest through the wringer."

"Is he sick, Doc?"

"It's probably due to the waterboarding, Leo. That much water inflames the sinuses and it likely ended up in his lungs too. I need to have a closer look at his chest scans. I'm going to focus on him, and then as soon as feasible, I need to have a talk with everyone."

Leonardo nodded. "Family meeting?"

"Give me an hour or so to catch up with Brandon, and I'll be ready to address the others."

"I'll gather them up for you, Doc."

* * *

><p>The blue-masked turtle had a difficult time keeping everyone away from the room while Luke was working. Katherine in particular was hard to hold back, but Leonardo was unwavering.<p>

"Bran isn't going anywhere, Kat. We need to wait like Doc said," Leo insisted.

The woman frowned, but didn't disobey him. Leonardo was grateful for the hope he felt in the atmosphere, but even _he_ was getting antsy to hear what Luke was going to tell them.

It took a little longer than the doctor had requested, but Luke finally approached the rest of the clan close to 8AM.

"Sorry to hold you up." Luke looked around the room to make eye contact with everyone in turn. "Brandon is fully aware of the environment, and of himself. He's clearly traumatized, and it took some convincing to get him to let me do what needed to be done.

"He's resting a little more easily now, and it didn't take a long time to gain some trust, so that's a good sign. As I already told Leo, though, we have to do this at his pace. The temptation might be to rush in there to see him, but I want no stress on Brandon whatsoever.

"Keep your contact with him subdued. Don't try to touch him unless he initiates it. _Don't_ ask him any questions. You don't necessarily need to talk at all. We still need to have people with him around the clock. I think he'll be comforted by the sight of familiar faces. We're keeping the room well lit so that Brandon knows where he is at all times. I'm afraid that the condition of the Den mimics that of the basement too closely."

"What about one of the space heaters?" Greg spoke up. "Maybe try warming it up a little?"

Luke nodded. "That's a good idea, and I'll probably implement it. The other thing I need to say is that we have to avoid bringing water around him in any form for the time being. It's safer for your health and better for _him_ mentally."

"Do you think he'll be down for a while?" Karina asked.

Luke nodded once more. "He sustained enough physical abuse to floor him for a few days, and the cough he's developed is only aggravating his condition. We probably need to suction his lungs, but I'm afraid Brandon might not appreciate that very much inside this state of mind."

"How long do you think he'll _stay_ in this state of mind?" Kat asked.

"His hypersensitivity to outward stimuli and physical contact could diminish over the next couple of days, or it might persist," Luke said honestly. "If it ends up lasting longer, he's going to require some special 'handling', for lack of a better term. That means no surprises of any kind." He fixed a look over the three turtles. "I know that you're ninjas, and quiet is your thing. You're going to need to override that directive and make some noise. I mean it. The smallest thing could potentially set Brandon off. I'll be surprised if he _doesn't_ have some angry or violent episodes."

Leonardo peered around the room at the disheartened faces of his friends and family. "We'll support him however we need to, Doc. We're not going to let him down."

Luke finally managed a smile. "You guys shouldn't feel like there's anything you _have_ to say to him. Let Bran be the guide. If he doesn't seem to want to talk, then just be there for him. If you can tell he needs something, offer to help, but don't force it. I know this is all a bit overwhelming, but we're actually in a decent place with Brandon. Not great, but okay."

Katherine got to her feet. "Can I see him, Luke?"

"You and Karina should both come; only remember not to get too excited. Brandon needs calm and peace above everything else."

The two bronze-haired sisters followed Luke back to the bedroom, and Leonardo settled further into the couch cushions with a deep breath.

_At least we're getting somewhere with Brandon. Awake and traumatized is better than nothing._


	25. Reconnect

Brandon had lost track of days, but he honestly didn't care. He vaguely recognized that the constant IV was making him drowsier, but he had no desire to fight the effects of the medication. It was better _not_ to be to awake. _Sleep is good. Sleep means I don't have to think, I don't need to remember, or feel anything at all.  
><em>

Brandon had been in and out so many times that he had a difficult time gauging how much time was passing. He'd started to equate the hour of day based on who was sitting with him when he came around. His sisters had been frequent visitors, but he could also recall Greg, the docs and the turtles being present.

Brandon had said very little to anyone, and they barely spoke to him. Nevertheless, the ability to count on _someone_ else to be there made him feel more at ease. He'd made almost no attempt to speak since seeing the blue-masked turtle for the first time.

It had been an absolute shock to "wake up" to Leonardo standing over him. In Brandon's mind, he'd groggily assumed that the turtle was a trick of his imagination, a hallucination to further torment him. Now more confident of what was real, he was content to remain where he was to prevent the further pain that moving induced.

The man was covered by nothing other than a thin sheet that came halfway up his chest. He recalled getting tangled in a regular blanket at some point, and being momentarily transported back to his nightmare with the sensation of being smothered and unable to breathe. The room was warm enough that he didn't require the blanket, and thankfully Luke hadn't forced it back on him.

Throughout his "awake" time when he couldn't sleep Brandon strove to keep his mind clear and avoided asking any questions, although part of him wanted to. The time he'd spent with the Akiudo was a confusing mass of fuzzy images that didn't give him any certainty as to whether or not the events had actually taken place.

He distinctly remembered being taken by the Akiudo, and Daichi's sick pleasure in harming him. The cramped quarters of his prison and the agonizing pain of his broken arm chained behind his back were crystal clear. Other things were more difficult to recall, but Brandon consciously recognized that every fearful reaction that swelled so easily to the surface was related to events from his captivity.

_All the parts I really don't want to remember, _he thought morosely. The only thing that Brandon readily admitted to himself from the extended water torture was that he hadn't expected to live. He'd accepted death as being inevitable, _expected_ it even. Thus when he'd first seen Leonardo, he'd been stunned to realize that he was not only rescued, but _alive_.

Despite the warmth the heater provided, the mere thought of the torture made him feel like he was freezing. He trembled as his breath hitched in his chest and tried to block the memories that were dawning on his mind. _Remove yourself. Remove yourself, _he silently urged.

Brandon turned his head on his pillow as he breathed a little deeper, licking cracked lips that were starved for moisture. Ice chips had recently become his new best friend, but they had yet to completely cure his dry mouth. He glanced toward the "visitor" chair expectantly, and saw Raphael.

The red-masked turtle nodded his head to acknowledge him. "Hey, man."

"Raph…what time is it?"

Raphael sat up straighter, seeming surprised that the man had addressed him directly. "About a quarter after 10pm," he replied.

"What day? I mean…how long have I been here?"

"It's been about three days since you've been underground, Bran. Can I get you some more ice?"

Brandon shook his head, his forehead creasing as he contemplated the things he could remember since waking up. _It feels like I'm missing something. I'm know missing _a lot_ of things, so there's no telling what this is about. _

As he cast a look around Donatello and Jenna's bedroom, the answer occurred to him in a flash. _Wait, that's _it._ Donny_. _Everyone else has come, at least…I'm pretty sure they have. I don't remember Don at all._

Brandon propped up on his good arm so that he could see Raphael better. "Raph, where's Donny?"

The turtle hunched further down in his chair, and he seemed suddenly fascinated by the floor.

"Raph, _where's_ Don?" Brandon persisted. "Has he been in here? I don't remember him."

"No, Bran, he hasn't."

"I'm not mad at him," he mumbled. "He doesn't need to avoid me."

"Don's not avoiding you, Brandon," Raphael said, but offered no further explanation.

"Raph, where _is_ he?" The man could feel himself getting exasperated.

"Bran, hold on a second, okay? I need to grab someone, and I'll be right back," the turtle replied.

Brandon thought he was going to retrieve Donatello, so he was mildly disappointed when Luke came back into the room instead.

"Luke? What's the deal?" Brandon craned his neck, but couldn't see Raphael either. "What is this, the case of disappearing turtles? What's going on around here?"

"I've come to talk to you about Donny," Luke answered.

"He needs a go-between? Seriously? Doc, I'm not gonna bite his head off. Things didn't end well with us the other night, and I'd really like to talk to _him_."

"Brandon, if Donatello was capable of coming to you, he already would have."

"What does that mean? What's wrong?"

"Donny's hurt," Luke said carefully. "He's hurt badly."

The possibility of anyone else being injured hadn't entered Brandon's mind. A lump instantly formed in his throat as he focused intensely on Luke. "_How_ bad, Doc?"

"Bad," Luke said maddeningly.

"I need more than that, Luke. Tell me what's going on."

The doctor sat down in the chair and rubbed a hand across his left temple. "This isn't easy. I knew it would come up eventually, but I didn't want to upset you—"

"_Doc_," Brandon interrupted sharply. "What's wrong with Donny?"

"He's in a coma."

"How? What happened to him?"

"The same thing that happened to you," Luke said bitterly. "He was ambushed by the Akiudo, the night you were kidnapped."

"Ambushed?" Brandon repeated. "I don't understand. He was home…"

"Don started out there, yes," Luke said patiently. "But then he went to the surface alone, and he was attacked without anyone realizing it."

Brandon sensed a great amount of restraint being exerted on Luke's part. "You're not being specific enough. I don't see how the Akiudo could have found Donny, unless…" The words turned to sand inside his mouth. "Unless…"

"Did you know that you misplaced your phone?" Luke asked, with a finality that indicated he knew what Brandon had realized.

The bronze-haired man nodded weakly. "I was looking for it, right before…" Again, he couldn't finish.

"The guys found your phone in the Den," Luke explained. "Donny made the trip to the surface to return it, and because he wanted to make up with you."

Brandon clenched his eyes shut for a long moment. "How is he, Doc? What did those thugs do to him?"

Luke shook his head. "We don't know how it went down. After the guys got you out and things were finished with Daichi, they took one of the warriors to question him. The man said that the Akiudo were waiting in the apartment when Donny arrived. I don't know how they knew he was coming. They had trouble containing Donatello, and Daichi ended up using a taser on him.

"My guess is that the charge wasn't strong enough to completely overpower him, because Don made an attempt to escape once they were outside the apartment. The warrior said Don utilized a wire as a zip line. Like the idiot that Daichi was, he followed him. Their combined weight was too much for the line, and it snapped. They crashed through a wall of tempered glass into an adjoining apartment building."

Brandon took a soft breath. "I _noticed_ Daichi was hurt, but he was perfectly fine to torment me."

"He got off a lot easier than Donny did," Luke said quietly. "Don came down on a granite island, and obtained a depressed skull fracture."

The words struck Brandon like a punch in the gut, and he couldn't speak before Luke continued.

"The real problem was…like I said, nobody knew about it. Don was on his own for hours before we caught up to him."

Brandon studied Luke's face, finally picking up on his level of discouragement. "Doc, he…he's gonna be all right, isn't he?"

Luke hesitated for far too long. "We don't know," he said finally. "He had a massive build-up in intracranial pressure that negatively impacted his brainstem. The swelling has come down enough for us to be able to detect some abnormalities on the scans."

Brandon swore. "And no one thought I needed to know about this?"

"We had every intention of telling you, slowly."

"You don't think he's gonna make it," Brandon said bluntly.

"I don't _know_ if he will. There's a difference, Bran."

Brandon wavered through a shaky breath. "Doc, I've gotta see him."

"Uh…Brandon, I'm not sure if that's the best thing right now."

"Don't do this to me, Luke. Don't you treat me like some little kid. Let me see Donny, _please_."

Luke swallowed deeply. "Hold on a minute."

"Where are you going?"

"To get help."

Brandon sat up further with the vague feeling that his weight was dragging him back down on the mattress. He was being assaulted by a different kind of fear now, which was raising his heart rate before he'd even had the chance to go anywhere. _This isn't the end, _he told himself fiercely. _Doc didn't say that he wasn't going to live. They've all been in bad spots before, and Don's made it this far. _

Brandon began working on getting his legs over the side of the bed, and looked over when he heard footsteps.

"Wait, Brandon," Luke ordered. "Don't try to get up on your own. I need to unhook you, and I brought Raph to assist."

The bronze-haired man fixed Raphael with a mute look that must have conveyed his hurt well.

"Bran, I'm sorry," Raphael murmured. "We were gonna tell you. You'd just been through so much, and we didn't know how to break the news about Don too."

"I _get_ that I'm a complete mess," Brandon snapped. "But this is important!"

The red-masked turtle made no attempt to defend himself as he stood by to help Brandon up. The man bleakly watched Luke finish unhooking lines. He'd been so consumed by the pain and weariness that he'd been satisfied to stay where he could rest without questioning anything else. Brandon recognized that the others were only trying to protect him, but the revelation that one of his best friends was lying at death's door changed everything.

Raphael supported Brandon from behind as Luke allowed him to get up. As he tried to straighten out his back, the man almost changed his mind about moving. The pain striking in his rib cage was so severe that he could barely breathe.

"Brandon," Luke started.

"_No_," he said forcefully. "I have to see him."

Brandon's legs felt like liquid and shook when he tried to rest weight on them.

"Are you sure about this, Bran?" Raph asked uncertainly.

He gritted his teeth against the burn on his chest. "Please, Raph. Just get me there, all right?"

"You want me to make this easier?"

Brandon rolled his eyes, but relinquished control to the turtle. He sensed that Raphael was trying to handle him gingerly, but he still grimaced as his friend lifted him. Luke exited the bedroom ahead of them, and Brandon was actually relieved when there was no one else in the living area.

_Pride knows no bounds, does it? _He stole a glimpse of Raphael, and saw grief and worry etched in the turtle's face. _My word. They've been dealing with all of this and waiting for days to find out if their brother is going to live or not. It's a wonder they're not acting crazier than me._

"Prepare yourself, Bran," Luke instructed. "Don's not in good shape. I'll go ahead and grab a chair for Brandon, Raph."

Brandon's heart picked up again as Raphael took him inside the Lab. He heard Luke wheeling a desk chair around, and the turtle stayed with Brandon until he was sure he could sit up. The position wasn't comfortable, but for the first time in days, he didn't care. Luke directed the chair across the room toward the occupied bed.

The closer Brandon got, the more he wanted to hide his eyes. He closed his left fist at his side as he forced himself to take in the sight of the injured turtle. Donatello's signature purple mask was missing, and his head was engulfed in tightly wrapped bandages. Looking at his friend, it didn't feel like it could possibly be Donny lying there.

Brandon grasped Donatello's arm tightly, and held on as if he could impart strength through his touch. "_Don_," he whispered, chin quivering out of his control. He slumped against the edge of the bed, burying his head as he was overwhelmed by emotion. "Donny," was the only other word he could say.

Tears came freely, and they didn't feel like they would cease any time soon.


	26. Starting Over

Greg hunched over the kitchen table, staring at the sandwich he'd fixed about half an hour ago. His body craved sustenance, but he'd barely choked down three bites. The day had been full of both elation and discouragement. He was relieved that Brandon was out of the bedroom and interacting with people, but he couldn't stand the sight of his friend's inconsolable tears.

_It doesn't seem like there's a middle ground, _he thought ruefully. _Either Bran's dead to the world, or he's completely overcome. I want to help – we all do, but I'm not sure that we can._

Greg rested his head in one hand, massaging his temples. His head had been pounding for two days with a stress headache he couldn't escape. When his phone vibrated on top of the table, he glanced up from his hand to see who it was. A glimpse of the number on the display made him snap up the device hurriedly.

"Sayuri." No other greeting was necessary. "Thanks for getting back to me so quickly," Greg said.

"How could I not, Greg-chan?" Concern tinged the Asian woman's voice. "You said it was a matter of life or death. What is going on?"

Greg sighed anxiously. "It's kind of a long story, Sayuri, so bear with me."

"Greg-chan, you sound…what is this in your voice?"

"It's called 'fear', Sayuri. Give me a couple of minutes, so I can get the whole story out."

Greg relayed the events of the last eight days as evenly as possible. Shame was already creeping over him for not filling the woman in sooner, and it made it easier to understand Leonardo not calling _him_ immediately.

It felt like Sayuri was a world away in Okinawa, and Greg had been biding his time before he had to call her to share news about Donatello. The Asian woman knew he had been on assignment on the open sea, and she probably hadn't given a second thought to his lack of contact.

_Sayuri's in law enforcement too, she understands what it's like to be undercover. But I wasn't working, I was _hiding_. This is the woman I claim to love, and I intentionally kept her out of the loop. That was wrong._

By the time Greg was finished catching Sayuri up, it felt like despair was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He waited for a response from the woman, letting over a minute pass before he checked if she was still on the phone. "Sayuri?"

"I am here," she said faintly. "But I don't know what to say to all of this. I can hardly fathom that such things could happen, Greg-chan. The Akiudo are back inside your city, when they _should_ have been all but wiped off the face of the Earth?"

Sayuri Kimura was the only person in the world who knew more about the Akiudo than Greg and the turtles did. The gang was in fact the reason that he'd connected with the woman altogether, in his quest for information on the Akiudo the first time they'd turned up in New York City.

After the Akiudo's initial route on American soil, he and Sayuri had maintained a long distance contact concerning their joint effort to find out what had become of the slavers after they left the States. The man could never have pictured where the polite working relationship would eventually lead.

They'd both held one another at an arm's distance as colleagues in the investigation, having never even been introduced in person. It wasn't until Sayuri got too close in her research of the Akiudo and turned into their number one target that the entire game was altered.

That was when Greg and the turtles had thrown caution to the wind, and had traveled to Okinawa to hunt Sayuri down. There had been a rush to locate the woman before her desperate recklessness in persisting with her research against the Akiudo ended up getting her killed. More things had gone wrong on the trip than he even wanted to recall, but a firm friendship had finally been forged between Sayuri and the clan. His and Sayuri's efforts to remain in touch had slowly developed into a relationship unlike anything Greg had ever experienced.

"We thought they were wiped off the Earth, Sayuri, but we were wrong," Greg said with frustration. "It's apparent that some of them not only survived the flood, they managed to escape before the police showed up. We left so little room for that opportunity, but it appears we weren't entirely successful."

"This nightmare is supposed to be finished!" she said, more forcefully than he'd expected. "You are telling me it is starting over?"

"I don't know, Sayuri. I wasn't around for the assault on the Club, and I didn't meet the guys' so-called 'informant'. I'm just as confused as you are."

Greg heard her sniff and exhale shakily on the other end.

"And Donatello-san…"

Greg shook his head automatically. "I don't have very much to tell you for certain. There's definitely brain damage. Whether it's the type he can heal from, the docs can't tell us. They're in the dark like the rest of us, waiting for something to happen. The only encouraging thing we've seen on that front was that they were eventually able to alleviate his intracranial pressure. I know this is difficult to process, especially the way we're separated—"

"Difficult to process?" she interrupted. "Greg-chan, I am at a complete loss! I don't know what I am going to tell Hisui, let alone Shunshi. This will _crush _the boy. You don't realize how much he idolizes Donatello."

Greg was able to conjure up an image of the ten-year-old Shunshi in his mind. The boy had been attached to the turtles at the hip when Sayuri had brought them to visit the family in North Carolina around New Year's. Shunshi had possessed an especially strong affinity for the purple-masked turtle ever since he'd discovered a hypothermic Donatello on the beach of Iriomote, part of the island chain of Okinawa.

"I don't know what to tell them, Greg-chan. You must help me."

Sayuri rarely sounded so unsure of herself. Greg felt a pang of deep longing to be with the woman, to assist her in conveying the bad news to the adopted children she'd welcomed into her home. _She's done a lot better with Hisui and Shunshi than most people believed she would, but I'm with her on this one. I don't know the right way to tell the kids either._

"I will never be able to hide this now that I know," Sayuri said mournfully. "I can barely stand the thought of Donatello-san in that position or Brandon-san being hurt so badly. It makes me sad beyond measure, but _angry_ too."

"I need you to cling to that anger," Greg directed. "We're going to be forced to launch another investigation into the Akiudo."

"Greg-chan, I want nothing more than to help, but I don't know where to begin. If the Akiudo is still in Okinawa, they are hiding well. I have heard of nothing to suggest their presence."

"What about Takashi? I'd look no further than the big man himself, if I were you."

"That seems like the most reasonable place to start, Greg-chan, but he would be extremely limited in his ability to impact their criminal efforts from inside prison."

"He wants us to believe that, Sayuri, but _something _is going on with him. Somehow he's exerting power over people on the outside. It stands to reason that the easiest way to locate whoever's holding the reins in his absence, would be to follow Takashi himself."

"Gaining access to him will not be easy. I am not refusing to try and discern what his part could be in all of this. I would only point out that since he is already contained, it may suit me to search out some other element."

"What other element?"

"Another person perhaps, who has both knowledge of the Akiudo and a craving for Takashi's power. It is wholly possible someone is trying to follow in his footsteps."

"You think a copy cat could be responsible for all of this?"

"I don't find it to be impossible, Greg-chan. Someone following Takashi's case could have been intrigued, and decided to pick up where he left off."

"The problem I have with a copy cat is that Daichi was also involved as both a subordinate and a leader of sorts. I don't think he'd be willing to follow the orders of a pretender, and according to Leo, he was definitely getting instructions from someone."

Sayuri was silent for a few seconds. "You are right, of course," she said. "It is just that the mere thought of Takashi being released from prison makes me want to laugh. His appeal is complicated, and his lawyer has the case in bad shape. The appeal could not be moving slower if they were intentionally stalling."

"That doesn't make sense," Greg replied. "We know he wants to return to the US, according to the conversation Leo overheard from Daichi. Why would he want an incompetent lawyer on his team?" Greg paused as the questions continued filtering through his mind. "The guys' informant was adamant that _Yukiko _was actually calling the shots, but that doesn't compute with me either."

"It is hard for me to swallow too," Sayuri added. "Raphael-san was certain she was dead."

"Then I guess she's either an imposter, or Yukiko came back to life," he said glibly. "If the informant can be believed, that is. Even if he _was_ telling the truth, Daichi could have been lying to all of them."

"Let me go over all of this one more time, to be sure I understand everything correctly," Sayuri said slowly. "Donatello-san is in danger of losing his life. Brandon-san was both injured and tortured. Daichi is no longer a threat, but the other Akiudo are somewhere beyond our sight, and could be planning something as we speak?"

"I think that covers it, Sayuri."

"I can see that I need to take this search seriously."

"I really am sorry I didn't contact you sooner," he said tightly. "I thought about calling you so many times. But every time I picked up the phone to tell you that our world was falling apart, I forced myself to wait. I wanted to have better news about Donny to share."

"I am sorry you are going through these things," Sayuri said quietly. "I wish I was there with you, Greg-chan. I wish I could see Donatello-san with my own eyes."

"You're better off not seeing him."

"Greg-chan, I may not be as close to the turtles as you, but I still care for them a great deal."

"That's why I'm glad you don't have to see this," Greg corrected.

"I guess I need to think about how to share this with the children, and I have to get to work once more. After everything we went through already, I cannot believe I am about to start searching for the Akiudo again."

"Neither can I," he returned. "If things were under control here, I'd be in Okinawa in a heartbeat, helping you look into this."

"Don't think of it, Greg-chan. You are needed badly at home. I will begin fresh here, and start with Takashi's visitors. If he is communicating with the outside, it is likely he is using a messenger. It would not be possible for him to lay out clear plans for strategy over the phone, if indeed he does still have a directive."

"I don't know much about your prison system, Sayuri. Give me some clue of how secure he is."

"You are considering the chance of escape? It is extremely rare, almost unheard of."

"I was under the impression that many of these prisons don't even arm their guards."

"That is true, Greg-chan, but the prison environment in Japan is very different from that of America. Violence between inmates and against guards is nearly non-existent. The prison personnel are also highly trained, with stringent requirements that must be met before they can work inside the system."

"How much good will their training do if they're unarmed against a group like the Akiudo, who favors using explosives and chemicals?"

"Takashi is considered a serious threat, and as such he would not be granted many freedoms that other prisoners get. I will study this matter, Greg-chan. I will acquire the visitor logs as soon as I can; I have a favor I can call in. If the Akiudo is regrouping, I will not rest until they are found."

"I just hope we can get some clue what they're doing before they show up at our doorstep," Greg mumbled. "With their history in mind, I don't know what to expect."

"One thing is for sure, Greg-chan: the days of their slave trading are over. What is next for them is anyone's guess."


	27. Fragments

Michelangelo felt like a ghost as he meandered around the Den that afternoon. He didn't want to sit still anymore, but he was also too discouraged to put effort into anything other than pacing. He saw the flickers of activity going on around him, but he was choosing not to engage in it today.

The orange-masked turtle felt like he was on auto-pilot, going through the motions of living, but avoiding the grief that kept springing up. With the passing days, distractions had been harder to come by. Even the children who were acting completely normal in their innocence didn't have the same spark for him.

Mike had spent a large part of the morning trudging through the sewers, but the deep darkness of his environment did nothing to improve his mood. However, returning home meant being reminded of his purple-masked brother everywhere he looked. There was no winning scenario, except the possibility of going to bed and sleeping until the entire storm had passed.

_What if this doesn't blow over, _he asked himself. _Am I being ridiculous to imagine that things could ever be normal again? Maybe it's better to assume the worst, and prepare myself for the strong chance that Donny isn't coming back._

The thought brought Michelangelo up short in his stride. Giving up on his brother's hope of recovery went against every fiber of his being, but helplessness was beginning to take a stronger hold on him._ I wish it didn't have to be drawn out and uncertain. It seems like it'd be better just to find out how it's going to end, so I can start adjusting if I have to._

Mike took a sharp breath as he leaned against the wall. _Adjust to life without Donny? I can't think about that right now. I can't handle it. _The wall didn't feel sturdy enough to withstand the weight the musing left on his shoulders. He didn't realize that he was zoning out until Leonardo was suddenly beside him, without Mike even noticing his arrival.

"Mike?" Leo's voice was tense, as if he could read the youngest turtle's frame of mind. "Do you want to come sit down?"

"No," he mumbled. "I don't wanna do anything."

Leonardo shifted from one foot to the other, hesitating beside him in the hall. "Have you seen Don today?"

Mike shook his head, resisting the urge to ask his brother what the point would be. It had been close to ten days since the night that had rocked the entire family, and the fragments of hope were fading fast. The docs were still unsure of Donatello's condition. Despite being able to see the contusions on his scans, Luke had said there was no way of telling how much brain function had been affected until Donatello came around.

_What would Donny choose? The machine is breathing for him; it's like he's not even checked into the building. Can we keep him alive forever, even if his mind is gone? There would be no sense in that. We're going to have to face this reality pretty soon._

"Michelangelo?" Leonardo's soft tone brought him back to his oldest brother. "What can I do for you? Is there anything that would help?"

Mike shook his head again, even though he was grateful for Leonardo's transparency in admitting that he didn't know the right thing to do either.

The blue-masked turtle reached to grip his shoulder. "I know where you heart is, Bro, and so do you. Why don't you stop fighting it, and go spend some time with Don?"

"He's not _there_," Mike said flatly.

"You don't know that," Leo contradicted. "The docs haven't written him off. Why are you trying to?"

"I want to prepare myself. Doc is the one who said his chances were poor, wasn't he? I don't wanna give up on Donny, but the longer he's stuck in this limbo, the more I feel like I don't have a say in the matter. Are we fooling ourselves, Leo? Shouldn't we be trying to find some way to deal with the fact that he might not be coming back? Is it better to keep holding onto hope when there probably isn't any, or to accept the situation for what it is? We haven't had _any _news on him in days. It's not just that nothing good has happened. Nothing has changed at _all_."

"Sometimes no news can be a good thing, Mikey," Leonardo said evenly.

"And you honestly think that's true for Donny's case? You can stand here being completely honest, and say you have confidence that Don is going to snap out of this?"

"People have come back after being in comas for several _years_, Mike."

"Right, but after too much time passes, _most _of them die or never get better."

"This isn't _you_, Mike," Leo countered. "I know you better than this."

"Maybe I don't _feel_ like me, Leo, and I don't wanna walk around with a fake smile. Do you want me to pretend for everyone else's sake?"

"No," he answered. "But I don't want to hear you assume the worst because we don't have information either. You shouldn't try to put on an act for anyone else, but hiding from them isn't the answer either, and you know it."

"Are you trying to say I'm avoiding Donny?"

"I'm not accusing you of anything," he said cautiously. "I'm only trying to get you to open back up, Bro. That's all. When you get upset, you don't usually tend to vent the way Raph does, or find something to stay busy like Don. You turn everything inward, to avoid letting others see it. You said you don't want to fake it, but then you hide so that you never have to."

Mike sighed. "What do you want from me, Leo? Do you want to call another meeting, so I can tell everyone I'm wondering if Don's gonna be a permanent vegetable?"

Leonardo rested both hands on Mike's shoulders. "You don't think everyone else isn't scared of the same thing?"

"Just tell me what you want, so we can finish this conversation." Mike was sharper than he intended to be, but it didn't appear to faze Leonardo.

"Mike, you don't have to talk to me at all. I'm simply suggesting that you don't give up on Don until the docs give us the final word. Until that time, I'm not writing him off for dead, and I don't think you should either."

The blue-masked turtle held on to his shoulders until Mike looked at him.

"Leo, I'm not…I wouldn't give up completely on Donny. I couldn't. I'm just struggling."

Leonardo extended his arms to embrace him fiercely. "I'm sorry, Bro. If I could change it, if I could go back a few days in time…"

"Leo_, stop_. We're all gonna drown in our own guilt if we keep thinking about things that way."

His brother nodded. "I know. But in my bad moments, it's the first thing to come to me."

Mike didn't fight Leonardo's grip, letting him hang on for several seconds before the orange-masked turtle started to let go. He heard a scuffle of feet, and glanced over Leo's shoulder to see Jenna backing away from the hallway.

"Uh…sorry," she apologized.

"No, you're fine, Jen," Mike assured her. "What's going on? Can we get something for you?"

The raven-haired woman shook her head. "No, I'm just going to try and get some sleep. Calley told me it was all right if…"

"If you used our room, yes," Leonardo filled in. "Go ahead, Jen."

"Thanks." The woman slid past the two turtles silently, disappearing into another bedroom down the hall.

Leonardo gave Mike a questioning look. "What do you want to do right now?"

"Go see Donny, I guess. Do you want to come with?"

Leonardo nodded, throwing an arm around Mike's shell. They went around the corner of the hallway, stopping short at the entrance to the living area. April was on the floor with Olivia cuddled up in her lap, and the woman was cooing softly over the baby turtle. Liv looked downright peaceful in the woman's arms, a feat that was rarely achieved.

"You're good with her, Ape," Mike commented. "Olivia won't give in to everybody like that."

"She can't be any harder to handle than her father, and I've had enough experience with Raph," April offered with a wry smile.

Mike felt the woman's eyes linger on him with concern, and he bent down to kiss Olivia's forehead to satisfy her anxiety over him.

"We're going to see Donny, April. You know where we are if the kids get to be too much. Where _is_ Reina?" Leo asked.

April pointed to the plastic tub that served as a toy box, right before the little girl popped up amidst the contents of the tote. Reina squealed when she saw Mike, and the turtle reached to pluck her out of the container.

"You know this tub isn't a toy, don't you, Reina?" he asked. The blond girl grabbed for his leg as he set her back down. "Can you play out here with April like a big girl?" Mike scanned the floor behind the toy bin, and found one of the ride-on trains that had proved so popular with the girls that they each needed their own for playtime. Mike scooted the toy across the floor, and Reina happily climbed onto the train.

Leo shot him a half smile before turning to April again. "So that's where we'll be."

"I can handle these two," April insisted with a wink.

As Mike entered the Lab behind Leonardo, he noticed Marcus standing across the room, taking notes with a clipboard. "Hey, Marc. Whatcha doing?" he tried to ask casually.

"Keeping records on where Don's vitals are hanging out," the man replied. "It would be faster to enter it directly into the computer, but I don't always like using the tablet. The written word is one of Man's greatest triumphs."

"That and you're not used to the new stuff?" Mike suggested. Donatello's Lab had been essentially destroyed in the earthquake, and rebuilt with newer, better equipment when they returned to the city.

Marcus shook his head. "Yeah, that too. Your brother keeps adding things, and going higher tech. I'm an old dog, and I have a hard time keeping up."

Leonardo snorted. "An 'old dog' with some of the best orthopedic skills in the country."

Marc shrugged modestly. "I'm going to input some notes. You guys have a seat, and stay as long as you like."

Mike settled into one of the nearby chairs, but he'd no sooner been sitting for a few seconds than he shifted for a new position. He had to force himself to sit still, so he could focus on his prone brother. There was never a time when he'd come to sit with Donny, but that he wished he could take his brother's place.

_It's no good to wish that though, _he thought glumly_. Becky doesn't deserve…_Michelangelo's thought trailed off as he thought he noticed a tiny flicker of movement in Donny's face. He would have missed it entirely if he hadn't been paying attention. He stared at his brother harder, but didn't see anything changing. _My imagination is playing tricks on me. Probably another sign that I'm not getting enough sleep, but who is?_

He looked away from Donatello and rubbed bleary eyes, his overstressed mind falling back into a silent holding pattern.

"Hey, Don," Leonardo greeted their brother as if he expected Donny to hear him. "Mike and I are both here for you. Jenna's gone to rest for a while, but she'll be back."

_I suppose if he could hear him, Donny would wanna know that. _Mike didn't have any desire to remain fixed on his brother's injured form, but he couldn't help noticing the way Leonardo was gazing at him. _Time to be a big turtle. If Leo can be an adult about this, so can I._

"Yeah, we're here, Donny, and we'd appreciate it if you didn't make us wait any longer," Mike added, patting his brother's arm.

The orange-masked turtle was stunned when the muscles in Donatello's face visibly flinched. He gasped at the same time as Leonardo shot upright in his chair beside him.

"Don?" Leo said urgently.

Mike watched frozen in time as Donatello suddenly gagged violently.

"_Marcus_!" Leonardo's voice cut through the air, even though the man was already rushing that direction.

"Marc, what is it, what's happening?" Mike demanded, even as the man elbowed the blue-masked turtle out of the way.

Marcus smoothly withdrew a tube out of Donatello's throat, casting it aside before he bothered to answer Michelangelo. "Just hang on, okay? I need to check a couple of things."

Mike hovered just out of the doctor's way as Marcus rapidly began taking vitals by hand. He successfully remained where he was standing, until Donatello opened his eyes.


	28. Emerging

***The snippet of a song that appears in this chapter is "Collide", by Howie Day. It's been one of Don and Jen's songs in the back of my head ever since "Of Hope and New Faces", and it felt appropriate to come out now.**

* * *

><p>Opening his eyes was a painful process for Donatello. The brightness seemed to cut through his retinas like laser beams, so that he immediately clenched his eyelids shut. He could hear voices that sounded extremely muffled, until they rose far enough in intensity to make it past the plugs that felt like they were blocking his ears.<p>

The excitement he sensed from the tones was so strange that it made him curious. The emotion grounded Donatello further in his sense of self, and he came to realize that he'd been injured significantly. His mind was slow to respond as he tried to remember what had happened and identify how he'd been hurt. The task was overwhelmingly difficult. He was still trying to work things out internally when he felt strong pressure grasping his arm.

_I can feel, _he recognized. _How long has it _been_?_

"Don, open your eyes for me."

_Do I have to?_

"C'mon, Donny, give me some sign you're in there! Open your eyes!"

It was a sound like sheer desperation in one of his brother's voices that convinced him to try once more. Through a concentrated effort that required painful focus, Donatello opened bleary brown eyes again. Nothing registered right away. The light had greatly diminished but the shapes that remained were indistinct and fuzzy.

Don blinked rapidly, and realized that someone was trying to get his attention. He stared hard at the figure standing over him. The flash of blue and green gradually expanded, turning into his oldest brother's familiar form.

_I recognize him; good. I can start there._

"Hey, Don, stay with me, okay?" Leo urged. "Doc's coming; he'll be here in a minute."

Donny gazed blankly at his brother, incapable of verbally responding or giving him the reassuring look that he wanted to provide. _I'm in here. I'm still around. I just have to get out somehow._

The slam of a door startled him, though he had no power to jolt. It took a couple more seconds before Luke entered his line of sight, with one of the most perplexing expressions Donatello had ever seen. He read both elation and fear in Luke's eyes.

_What's he so afraid of? I must have missed something big. Need to catch up._

"Hi, Donny. It's really good to see you." Luke's voice was soothing, and had the effect of drawing peace back over the turtle like a warm blanket.

Questions still buzzed around his mind, but they faded slightly into background noise as Luke began probing him gently.

"Can you move your fingers, Don?" Luke asked.

Donatello looked down, glimpsing the cast on his left wrist for the first time. Mentally he commanded fingers to contract, but nothing happened. He stared at his wrist for a little longer, before turning the focus on his right arm. It didn't appear to be injured, but it was no more willing to move. He looked up at Luke helplessly.

"Its okay, Donny," the man assured him. "Don't worry."

"He can't move, Doc?"

Don was surprised to hear another voice behind the doctor, this one more reminiscent of Michelangelo. His vision only extended far enough to take in the man who was directly beside him.

"It's going to take time for him to get some function back, Mike. There are a lot of tests to perform, but the hardest…"

Donatello never heard the rest of what Luke was telling his younger brother. His mind was fading like a car engine that was running out of gas and stalling to a stop. Part of him wanted to cling to consciousness, afraid to let go lest darkness prevent him from waking up again.

He wasn't given a choice in the matter. As both hearing and vision faltered, Donatello had one last brief sensation of something resting against his cheek. It was both cool and comforting at the same time, providing a peaceful sendoff as he floated away again.

* * *

><p>The following span of time was confusing, and he couldn't be sure if any of it was real. Pictures ran through his mind and sensations sparked through his nerves, but he was incapable of digesting any of it. Don never knew if the voices were actually inside the room, or if they were only in his head.<p>

Some of the dreams felt so tangible he assumed that they _had_ to be real, but the actions he performed inside the scenarios proved that they weren't. _I can't move, _he reminded himself groggily. _I can't do any of those things. _

For the most part, Donatello had to content himself with darkness. He was too tired to continually fight his way back to the surface, or to deal with the confusing condition in which he found his body. Caught up in the visions of his subconscious, he wasn't limited or restrained in any way. He could run and fly, in a manner that made him feel free of the burden his body had become. Voices occasionally penetrated through the deep layer of apathy, and made him _want_ to emerge. _They're not giving up on me. I can't quit either._

Something sharp made contact with his left foot, and Don surprised himself by jerking his ankle.

"That was a good reaction."

The turtle forced his way through the glass wall that separated him from the real world, and he blinked as he felt himself coming back down to Earth. Donatello saw Luke, but the doctor wasn't looking at him. He tracked the man with his eyes, and discovered that Luke was talking to someone else.

"A response to painful stimuli is exactly what we want to see, Greg. It means that he isn't paralyzed."

_I can move? Then why isn't my body listening to me?_

Luke turned his direction again, and the man's blue eyes widened when he found the turtle gazing at him. "Hi there, Donny. Did you feel me messing with you?"

The turtle wanted to ask a million questions, but he couldn't even open his mouth.

"Let's resort to some yes or no answers, all right?" Luke suggested. "You know how this works. Since you can open and close your eyes, it will be really simple. Two blinks for yes, and one for no. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Don dutifully blinked for him.

"Good. Can you feel my hand?" Luke rested his palm on Donatello's ankle first, and slowly worked his way up his frame.

Donatello gazed at Luke longingly and could feel his brow furrowing in consternation.

"Patience, Donny." Luke squeezed his right wrist. "I'm pretty sure the function is there, you just have to wait on it. You're awake, you understand me, and that's better than I could have hoped for."

_What part of this is good? I've got no clue what happened, or what's wrong with me._

"I understand it's extremely frustrating, Don, but if you only knew where you've been…you'd be relieved like the rest of us," Luke told him.

_I'd settle for you telling me what's going on. Please?_

"There are a lot of things we need to do, but we're going to take it slow, and give you plenty of room to breathe. I don't want you to get discouraged up front, Donny. You're dealing with a very serious injury that we haven't been able to completely assess. But we're with you for the long haul, okay?"

Donatello wanted to sigh, but he couldn't muster a sound any more than he could move.

"In the meantime, everyone is chomping at the bit to see you," Luke continued. "Don't worry – I'm not going to unleash them all at once. If I don't let Jen in though, she'll strangle me where I stand."

_Jen? Where is she? Has she been here? I can't remember._

Donatello heard the squeal that came from the wheels of the chair, and tried to follow Luke with his eyes as the man went across the room. He waited impatiently for the door to open again, and instinctively commanded himself to roll over to face the entrance. He growled inwardly at his inability, but the sound he could only produce inside his head cut off the instant he heard footsteps.

Jenna was there; more beautiful than any of the mental images his mind had conjured over the past hours. The woman smiled and he wanted to melt, to jump up and take her in his arms. She lowered herself into a chair instead, and scooted over to sit beside him.

"Hi, Donny. Doc says you know what's going on. I can't tell you how glad I am to see you." Jenna seemed hesitant as she reached out to touch him, almost like she was afraid of hurting him.

_It would be worth it, _he thought ruefully_, _as he fought with the muscles in his face to give her a look, something that would tell her everything would be all right. The feeling of her fingers brushing against his jaw was one of the most exhilarating things he'd ever experienced. When she started to withdraw her hand, he ached to tell her to leave it, that he never wanted to be abandoned in the barren wasteland of his mind again.

"He says you're in there, and I believe it," Jenna told him. "I can feel it. I'll wait for you, Donny. I don't care how long it takes."

_What did I ever do to deserve this woman? _

"I love you so much, and I didn't know if I was going to get the chance to tell you again. When I think about that night I fell asleep, when I should have stayed up waiting for you, I just wanna kill myself."

For the second time Don felt his forehead creasing. _This can't be your fault, Jen. I don't want to hear you talk like that._

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "There are things coming out of my mouth that I shouldn't even say. I'm so happy you're awake, I can just shut up. I don't need to talk at all."

_I love your voice. I always have, even since the first day when your accent surprised me. There's nothing I'd rather do than listen to you._

"I could prattle on all night if they let me, but Doc says that you need to rest."

_I don't want to rest. Talk to me, Jen. None of these things matter as much with you here._

"Are you tired, Donny? You can tell me to be quiet. Do that thing with your eyes like Doc said."

His eyes merely widened, as he hoped he was communicating that she couldn't be more wrong.

"Do you want me to stay, Don?"

He gave her the appropriate response with two blinks. _Always_.

"Then I won't let Doc or anyone else tear me away. You can go to sleep when you get sick of me."

_Where are you getting these crazy ideas?_

The young woman looked over her shoulder toward the door, and for a disappointing moment, he thought she was going to leave.

"I've had a song running through my head for two days, ever since I found out you'd opened your eyes. Do you want to hear it?"

_Is that how long it's been? And you've been here, when I didn't even know it. _He blinked in a way that he hoped captured his true eagerness.

She smiled at him fondly, smoothing dark hair to the side of her face before taking a small breath.

"_The dawn is breaking_

_A light shining through_

_You're barely waking_

_And I'm tangled up in you._

_I'm open, you're closed_

_Where I follow, you'll go_

_I worry I won't see your face_

_Light up again._

_***  
>Even the best fall down sometimes<em>

_Even the wrong words seem to rhyme_

_Out of the doubt that fills my mind_

_I finally find you and I collide."_

Donatello gazed at her steadily as she finished, wishing he could say something. Her hand rested on his arm, and he could see tears developing in her eyes.

"I'm sorry I doubted, Donny. There have been a couple of times when I wondered if you'd pull through. Now you're here, and all I want to do is kiss you and make you feel better somehow."

_Wow. It must have been really bad. I can't stand that she's feeling any guilt over this. Jen needs to know that, but how am I supposed to tell her? _As he put effort into attempting to speak, he was met by a giant roadblock that made him feel wearier for trying to concentrate. _No. I'm not falling asleep again, not with her here. This isn't happening._

As if she could sense the inner turmoil, Jenna rested her hand on his cheek once more. "I'm going to be here for you no matter what, Don. I won't leave you. I won't get tired of waiting. I love you, and I'll stay with you."

Donatello closed his eyes as she leaned down to kiss him, glorying in the softness of her lips even though he couldn't reciprocate. Silky black strands of her hair brushed his face, surrounding him in her familiar fragrance.

She rose with another smile. "You're stuck with me, Donny," she said matter-of-factly.

His heart swelled as his muscles relaxed from the tension of trying to perform some kind of action. As he held her eyes, Donatello could literally _feel _some more freedom returning to his face, and his lips turned as he managed a smile for her.

Jenna's dam burst in an instant with a half sob. He wanted to wipe away her tears, but he had to satisfy himself with trying to hold on to the smile, until the effort was too great for him to keep his eyes open any longer.


	29. Limitations

***If you're not familiar with any of my previous works, you probably believe my medical team is overkill. Three doctors? Why on earth do they need three? The important thing to note about these men is that they each bring a different specialty to the table. Luke is the trauma expert/chemist/crew chief. Marcus is an orthopedic specialist...talented at fixing the nasty injuries I'm known for inflicting. And Caleb...his specialty is about to really come in handy again.**

* * *

><p>Leonardo waited with bated breath for Luke to come out of the Lab again. It had been three days since Donatello had initially come around, and it was the first time that the docs had done any in-depth tests aside from checking his basic vitals.<p>

Everyone had been lingering in the living area for the last couple of hours, hoping for a tiny bit of good news concerning Donny's progress. Leonardo had been overjoyed to watch life return to his brother's face, and the mobility he'd gained with his neck to at least turn his head different directions.

Yet the longer the docs stayed behind closed doors, the more Leonardo wondered what type of lasting damage Donatello could be facing. He glimpsed Jenna across the room every now and then, as she waited nervously for news inside her own private world.

_I don't blame her. If I had nails, they'd probably all be gone by now._

Leonardo glanced to his right to lay eyes on Brandon. A shadow clung to the man's face, as if there was no light powerful enough to drive it away. Brandon had been on his feet independently a couple of times over the last 24 hours, but he displayed no satisfaction in regaining some strength.

Brandon didn't speak or smile at anyone. For the most part, Leonardo realized the man was even avoiding meeting the eyes of those around him. The blue-masked turtle wanted to apologize to him, to beg the man's forgiveness that they hadn't realized he was missing sooner, but that would have involved forcing him to revisit the events.

Luke had urged them to avoid the subject matter of Brandon's kidnapping at all costs for the time being, unless the man was the one to bring it up. Leonardo quickly looked away from his friend before Brandon could notice that he was studying him.

_I don't want him to think that I'm analyzing him, even if that _is_ what I'm doing._

The opening of the door to the Lab got a reaction from several people at once, and Leo sat up further in his chair too. Luke led the way out into the living area with Marcus and Caleb trailing behind him. As the blond doctor nodded at the other two men to sit down, Leonardo saw Raphael scooting to the very edge of his chair.

"Talk to us, Doc," Raph insisted. "We've been in the dark for long enough."

"Yes, you have," Luke acknowledged. "Donatello's motor function is suffering due to the extent of the injuries to his brainstem. Now there's no paralysis, which indicates that he should be able to regain function in time, or with therapy. More likely it will take a combination of both."

"What kind of function?" Mike asked. "Are you saying he could be stuck in that bed without being able to move or talk for a long time?"

"He's already moving _some_," Luke pointed out. "Donny might need to learn how to walk again, and he'll definitely need some help with handwriting. He couldn't even hold a pen correctly. At the same time he still recognizes the alphabet, and I'm betting that with more time, he'll be able to put words and sentences together."

"How do you know he recognizes the alphabet?" Greg asked curiously.

"We set up one of the tablet computers with the touch-screen keyboard for him. Don was capable of confirming a few of the specific letters that I asked for, though he couldn't group them together. I kind of figured it might be the easiest way for him to communicate with us in the near future. He could tap out messages, which would then be transferred to another screen for us to read."

"Why can't he talk?" Jenna asked. "Do you think it's permanent?"

Luke shook his head. "I don't know; there's nothing wrong with his vocal chords. There appears to be some kind of disconnect, a lack of coordination between his breathing and his voice. It's something we see more often with Locked in Syndrome, but Donny definitely doesn't have _that_. Once again, time and therapy may be the keys to him regaining the ability to speak."

"What about his mind?" April asked hesitantly.

Leonardo could tell she hadn't wanted to ask, but he knew that everyone else was wondering the same thing, even though they were afraid to speak the words.

"It's too early to be certain," Luke replied. "There's a lot of confusion right now. Don's problem-solving ability seems to be intact, but it's extremely slow. It took such an intense amount of concentration on his part that I almost called a couple of tests off altogether.

"I don't enjoy watching him struggle, but it _does_ demonstrate to me that he's fighting. If Donny's willing to go the distance, I believe he stands a chance of being normal again." Luke glanced in Caleb's direction.

The bespectacled man swallowed deeply. "There are also other factors…um…possible solutions for helping Donatello. Scientists in China have been using stem cell therapy in conjunction with traumatic brain injuries for quite some time. They've been targeting the brain tissue itself, and they've seen evidence that the stem cells are promoting the body's 'self repair' mechanism.

"I've never done anything like it in my own testing, but we already possess the equipment to reproduce the necessary iPs cells. Donatello has his own reserve cells already built up in the bank from the procedures we went through for _Mike's_ treatment. From that experience, I know that we can reprogram the adult stem cells effectively, and it gives us another option at the very least. I think that it would improve the chances of Donatello recovering his full mental capacity."

Leonardo nodded at Caleb. "We've seen you in action, Caleb. I think I speak for all of us when I say that your particular expertise in this situation is appreciated."

The older man fussed with his glasses nervously. "We had success with Michelangelo's lungs, partially because your cells were so easy to adapt—"

"But mostly because you're a genius in your own right," Mike interrupted. "My mutation doesn't have anything to do with the fact that I'm alive today. That's all you, Caleb."

The man shook his head. "With a lot of trial and error," he said ruefully. "In any case, I've been researching the possibility of transplanting iPs cells to Donatello's brainstem. While I don't want to rush into anything that we're not prepared for, time _is_ of the essence. The sooner we act on something of this nature, the better chance we have of the procedure working."

"Is the reserve of Donny's cells gonna be enough? You know any of us will step up," Raphael spoke up.

Leonardo nodded his agreement. Through a combination of therapies including a "receptor blocker" that interfered with the body's natural defenses to reject cells that weren't a genetic match, it had actually been Raphael's stem cells to serve as the best candidates to save Michelangelo. If that wasn't complex enough, the stem cells had to undergo a transformation of their own before they could be implanted.

What Caleb referred to as "iPs" cells was actually nothing more than adult stem cells that had been reprogrammed to behave more like their embryonic stem cell counterparts. The process gave the created "iPs" cells the ability to transform into different types of tissues and other cells as needed. Caleb had a lot of research and experience already invested in the new technology at the time when he'd met the turtles. All the jargon had made Leonardo's head spin a few months back, but weeks of explanations and patience from the docs had achieved _some_ understanding for everyone.

"I think I can reproduce enough stem cells from Donatello's reserve to stick with his type," Caleb answered. "I'd rather not attempt using the receptor blocker inside his brain, without knowing of the possible consequences."

"How long will it take to make the iPs cells?" Leo asked.

Caleb smiled a little sheepishly. "The cells are already in production. I started the process last week. I knew they would need a few days to mature, so I didn't want to hesitate and wait for him to wake up first. I had no plans of _using_ them without the express blessing of the family."

Leo grinned as the man faltered. "We put Mike's life in your hands when we didn't even know you, Caleb. Do you think we're going to hesitate to put Don in your hands now?" Leonardo looked around the room slowly. "_Is_ there anyone who would object to this procedure?"

The blue-masked turtle made another sweep across the room, but no one spoke. "It seems like all of us want you to use every ounce of experience and knowledge that you possess to get Donatello the best outcome possible, Caleb. But we also recognize that this is probably all experimental, just like in Mike's case."

Caleb nodded. "On my part it would be, though the procedure is already taking place in different parts of the globe."

Brandon raised his head to look at Caleb squarely. "This family needs Donny too much," he murmured. "It has to be done, doesn't it?"

Luke cleared his throat. "I agree with Caleb that it's his best hope for regaining full cognitive ability. There could be so many complications relating to a brainstem injury, anything from memory retention and reasoning ability, down to his actual personality being affected. Therapy can help, but it can't _reverse_ the damage, not the way that a stem cell transplant may be able to. I've talked about this with Donny, and he appears to understand. If all of you agree to it, we'd like to push forward with the procedure as soon as the cells are ready."

"We trust you guys, Luke," Jenna said tightly. "We always have."

The blond doctor came over from where he was standing to meet the young woman. "We are going to do everything we can to give him back to you, Jen. I promise you that."

She nodded. "I know you will…and there's no one who could take care of him better than the three of you."

* * *

><p>When the meeting was complete, Leonardo went back inside the Lab with Luke to see Donatello. His younger brother looked like he was asleep, but Leo settled into a chair beside him just the same. He glanced at Luke as the man leaned over the desk, turning back on the monitor of the computer with a flick of a button.<p>

"What was that device you were talking about, Doc? The one Don might be able to use to communicate with us?"

Luke picked something up off the desk and brought it over to show the turtle. Leo recognized the so-called "tablet" as something Donatello had only recently started using since returning to the city. The computer was impossibly thin to Leonardo's eyes. With a sweep of his fingers, Luke brought up a digital touch screen that resembled a real keyboard.

"Like I said, he was able to confirm what several letters were for me. By intentionally calling some of them by the wrong name, I was able to determine whether he recognized what they were or not. For obvious reasons, I think Donny will pick this up much faster than he would writing. With the particular structure of your hands sign language would be difficult, though we may able to adapt some signs for him. His _comprehension_ is intact, which is one of the most crucial areas for him being able to recover."

Leonardo nodded solemnly. "The other crucial part is having all of _you_ on board," he said seriously.

Luke pursed his lips as he visibly struggled with emotion. "I wish he didn't have to go through this, but having Caleb…it gives us much more hope than we might have otherwise. We should have brought a geneticist on the payroll a long time ago," he said, forcing a smile.

"That's thanks to you too," Leo reminded him.

"He was my parents' colleague, Leo, and if you recall correctly, I didn't want him involved with Mike to begin with."

"It sure would have been easier than navigating the Genetic Institute turned out to be," Leo said morosely.

"Don't remind me."

A soft groan came from Donatello's direction, and had Leonardo spinning around hopefully.

"He's been making some sounds like that, Leo, but they're completely involuntary, and mostly in response to pain. I need to check his IV." Luke was all business again, moving to examine the bag of formula that the younger turtle was receiving.

Leonardo reached to grip his brother's fingers. At his touch Donatello opened his eyes, and craned his neck toward Leo.

"Hey," the older turtle greeted him. "We just heard you're going to get to be Caleb's next project."

Don gave him a half smile in response.

"That's something to look forward to?"

His brother nodded.

"We like the idea too. We're all going to be here for you, Don. I know you're going to get through this, because you never give up on _anything_."

He felt Donatello's hand stiffen in his grasp, and released it at once. To his surprise, he realized his younger brother was forming a fist. Leo grinned openly as he bumped Don's fist with his own.

"You're one of the toughest guys that ever lived, Don. You're going to make it."

Donatello flashed him another smile that ended in a grimace.

"Doc's working on your IV," Leo said quickly. "Are you in pain?"

Donny nodded again, and Leonardo covered his brother's fist with his hand.

"Doc will get you squared away. Hang in there with me, Bro. Please hang in there."


	30. Unsatisfied

Raphael wearily slumped onto the bench in the dojo, feeling spent from the hours of exercise that had served as nothing but a diversion. _And not a good one at that, _he thought morosely. _Only thing I can think about is finding the Akiudo and dealing with them properly. Maybe another trip to Okinawa should be in the works. _He shook his head in frustration. _As if we'll be able to track them down without Don's help? Shell, we need him so bad, and not just for the smart techie stuff._

The red-masked turtle swiped a hand across his forehead to remove beads of perspiration. He'd expected Karina to interrupt him at some point, but the woman had maintained her distance. _She's probably just busy, like taking care of our kid, _he told himself with annoyance. _It ain't like Kari doesn't do enough around here. Lately I'm sticking her alone with Liv on every whim I get._

Raphael glanced up when there was a knock at the door. He sat up straighter in preparation to face Karina. "C'mon in."

It wasn't the bronze-haired woman, but his older brother who peered around the door frame.

"Hey," Leo called softly.

"Hi, Fearless. I'm done," he assured him immediately.

"I didn't come to stop you, Raph," the blue-masked turtle said evenly. "I just wanted to make sure that the rest of our equipment was in one piece."

Raphael smiled at Leonardo's meager attempt at a joke. "Yeah, I ain't trying to destroy all our gear, Leo. We still need some of it."

Leonardo waved him down as Raphael started to rise. "What's your rush? It's not like we have somewhere to be."

Raphael looked down at the floor. "Ain't that the truth?"

His brother offered him a bottled water, and sat down on the bench beside him. Raphael twisted the cap off so hard that he felt the plastic crack in his hand. He threw back a couple gulps of water before looking at Leonardo again. _It's better to be proactive than to beat around the bush._

"What do you wanna say, Leo?"

"I don't know. I hadn't really planned anything."

"That's not like you." Raphael smirked slightly, but then peered closer at Leonardo. "You look bummed, Bro."

"Unsatisfied," he corrected. "Just like you, I imagine."

Raphael shook his head. "Not much we can do about it, is there?"

"No, except try to be prepared for _whatever's_ coming next."

Raphael took another pull from the bottle as he stared into space. "How are we supposed to prepare for something when we don't even know what it _is_? Maybe we're overthinking this, Leo. How many of these jokers could be left out there? We might be giving them more credit than they deserve."

Leonardo sighed. "It doesn't take an army to create large problems, Raph. Sometimes, it only takes a man; one man who's willing to overlook the rights of everyone else to further his own agenda. One person who's evil enough to destroy anyone and anything that gets in his way."

"Are you giving Takashi that much thought, Leo?"

"It's hard not to," he replied. "Raph, somewhere in the back of my mind, I _knew_ this wasn't over. It's been stirring in my spirit for months. There's been uneasiness, a lack of finality, all trying to warn me. I overlooked it and convinced myself that it was nothing but my imagination. I told myself that I'd get over it in time. That worked out well, don't you think?"

"It ain't like it's your fault, Leo. We _all_ thought this was finished," Raphael returned. "You don't need to turn this into some personal failure on your part."

"The temptation is there, Raph, but I'm not going to. Taking on that kind of guilt is a waste of time, and it doesn't help anyone."

Raphael turned his head to look at Leonardo again. "So what are we doing in the meantime? It's like we're stuck sitting around waiting for something to happen."

"That's pretty much where we're at," Leo acknowledged. "But it doesn't mean we're completely idle. We need to keep our eyes open and our spirits centered, so that we're ready to act when the time comes. Don needs our support, and Brandon…." Leonardo trailed off for a moment. "Bran needs a lot of help and understanding. He could have a long road back, mentally speaking. I think the complications that Donny is experiencing only make this harder on Brandon."

The red-masked turtle rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. "I wanna help Bran, Leo, you know that. I'm just not sure what the best thing to do for him is. Sometimes I think he wants space so I leave him alone, only for one of the girls to find him huddled up terrified in the bedroom like something was trying to attack him. It sure doesn't seem like he's ready to talk about anything."

"No he's not, but I don't think he wants to be on his own either. He wants the freedom to be left alone, but not actually _be_ alone. Does that make any sense?"

"I guess it does. I'll keep my mouth shut, Leo, but it's hard. All I wanna do is apologize and tell 'im we didn't _know_ he was missing."

Leonardo nodded. "I feel the same way, but I also think that could put the focus back on the very thing he doesn't want to talk about."

Raphael's shoulders hunched as sadness coursed through him anew. "Why'd it have to be him, Leo?" he mumbled. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Madness usually doesn't," Leonardo said. "There's no real answer for that. Brandon went through something that he never should have, but he was strong enough to survive it. I have faith in Brandon, Raph. With time and support, I believe he'll be back to full strength."

"I believe that too, Leo," he affirmed. "It's just a matter of how long it's gonna take."

* * *

><p>It had been another quiet evening around the Den, full of the weighty silence of which Raphael had grown so tired. He'd spent time with Karina and Olivia, and had even cleaned up a large portion of the kitchen after dinner to make up for being missing a good part of the day.<p>

When it came time to go to bed, however, he was wide awake. The red-masked turtle had tried watching some TV, but couldn't find anything that would hold his attention. What he really wanted to do was bug Mike to join him, but he knew his youngest brother was asleep, and he wasn't about to bother him because _he_ couldn't settle down.

With TV remote in hand, Raphael suddenly stopped on a show depicting three eager looking people standing behind large baskets. He cocked his head curiously as the announced addressed the apparent "contestants".

"_Chefs, please open your baskets. And the mystery ingredients you must include in your _entrées_ are: flank steak, grape juice, goat cheese, and lemongrass. You each have thirty minutes to complete your entrée, and your time starts…now."_

He rolled his eyes as he flipped the station again. _Who would eat that stuff in real life? What a waste of time. _Raphael sank further into his chair as he brought up the on-screen guide and began running through the programing at a rapid-fire pace. _One good show, is that too much to ask for? _He rested his chin in his hand, and felt like his eyes were glazing over the longer he stared at the titles passing by.

A shout from down the hall startled Raphael, and he jerked so hard that he dropped the remote control. He immediately recognized Brandon's voice, and vaulted out of the chair. When he threw open the door of the bedroom, he was met by the distressing sight of the traumatized man backed into a corner. Greg was giving Brandon some space, but also extending his arms in a way that suggested he was trying to calm him down.

Greg turned to look in Raphael's direction as he entered the room, and it couldn't have been a worse time to take his focus off their irrational friend. Brandon levered his elbow like a sledgehammer, driving it into the other man's face. The turtle lunged forward to steady Greg as he staggered. Surprised by his rapid reaction, Brandon dropped further into the safety of his corner. Raphael was torn over leaving him, but he needed to make sure that Greg was okay too.

Raphael backed out of the room with a firm arm around the sandy-haired man, and met a sprinting Leonardo in the hall. The blue-masked turtle shook his head when he saw their friend's blood.

"Are you all right, Heff?" Leo asked.

Greg grimaced even as he shrugged. "Sure. I don't really _need_ my nose that badly, do I?"

"I swear you're going to lose it one of these times," Leonardo said ruefully.

"With my luck," the man muttered.

Raphael winced apologetically. "I'm sorry for distracting you, Heff. If I hadn't come into the room—"

"_You_ didn't hit me, Raph, and Bran didn't know what he was doing. You'd better get back in there and calm him down, seriously."

"He's right, Raph," Leo spoke up. "I've got Greg, unless you'd rather I go deal with Brandon."

"Nah, I got this," Raphael assured him.

He went back inside the bedroom more slowly this time, and found Brandon crouched near the floor in the same corner. Silent tears were coursing down the man's face as he stared at the floor. Brandon stiffened as Raphael came toward him, so the turtle changed direction to sit down on the bed instead.

Raphael hesitated on the edge of the mattress, waiting to see what Brandon would do. When his friend didn't move or acknowledge him after a couple of minutes, he finally spoke.

"You know where you are now, don't you, Bran?"

"Yes," he answered softly. "But I wasn't _here_, and there was someone else. Donny was…" Brandon's face screwed up as he fought for control of his voice. "They had him. They _killed_ him."

The turtle got back to his feet and came to sit on the ground, about a foot away from Brandon. "Don's not dead, Bran. He's still with us, remember? Things ain't great, but the docs think he can get better. _Both_ of you are safe, so you can relax."

Regardless of his words Brandon's gaze remained fixed on the ground. "I'm not supposed to be here," he murmured. "I was never supposed to make it out. I'm screwed. I'm so screwed, Raph."

"No you're not," Raphael said adamantly, barely resisting the urge to touch him. "You're gonna be okay, Brandon. Things are going to get better for you too."

"You don't know, you can't see it," Brandon faltered. "Nothing about this is right. I'd be better off if I'd died back there."

"Brandon, don't say that," he ordered. "Don't you _ever_ say that. Your sisters love you; we _all_ do. Nobody wants to lose you."

The man's head dropped so low that it was almost brushing the floor. "It's not you guys. It's me. I don't think I can live with this, Raph."

"It's hard, I hear you," Raphael replied. "But you're going to make it, Bran, we'll make sure of it. We're here for you, Man, and we're not going to abandon you."

"You _should_," he said sharply. "You weren't there; you don't know what happened."

Raphael shook his head. "I _don't _know, Bran. But that doesn't mean I'm giving up on you."

"I gave up on _you_," Brandon said faintly. "I gave up hope of making it. When they were..."

"Brandon, you don't have to do this."

"I tried to die, and they wouldn't let me. They wouldn't _let _me, the bastards!"

The momentary surge in Brandon's anger was followed by a greater weariness, and the man slumped to the floor. Raphael swallowed back emotion as he got up to retrieve him, and put his friend back into the bed.

_Those Akiudo should be in pieces. I ought to hunt them down again myself, so I can finish them properly, _he fumed. _It's not fair. It's just not fair._


	31. Stories & Stretching

Michelangelo shifted in his chair a couple of times before he could bring himself to sit still. He hated feeling so flummoxed in the presence of his injured brother, who was silently watching his every move. _Shell, what's my problem? Donny's awake. I shouldn't have any issues talking to him. All I wanted was for him to snap out of that coma, and now I don't know what to do with myself around him?_

Donatello's brown eyes peered at him uncertainly, as though he was trying to figure out what Mike was thinking. The orange-masked turtle forced a chuckle.

"Sorry for clamming up on you, Bro. Totally not like me, right? I'm just all nervous for some reason that I can't figure out." As all of Mike's words ran together in a single breath, he saw his brother's eye ridges raise slightly. "I should slow down, huh? That's what you've always told me. 'You could do anything, Mikey, if you'd just take your time a little.'

"Me, I never saw things that way. I didn't even think I'd finish writing that first book, but you said I could, you and Bran. One chapter at a time, focusing on one _scene_ at a time. Now I'm well into my third."

The lines in Donatello's face relaxed contentedly, and Mike folded his arms across his chest.

"Do you wanna hear more about Aidan and the chemistry dude?"

His brother nodded eagerly, and Mike couldn't help beaming. He'd intentionally left Donny in suspense for months concerning the identity of the character with whom his female lead was going to end up. Mike had possessed a plan from the beginning of the second story that included Aidan finally getting together with her partner, Grant, who worked through the same Spy Agency.

Somewhere along the line the "plan" had been completely derailed by the chemist, Andrew, whom Aidan and Grant had spent much of the book protecting. Mike knew that his brother favored Andrew over Grant, though Donatello had made no attempt to tell him how to write the story. The second book had ended without Aidan making a decision either way, much to Donny's chagrin.

The third had picked up right where the second left off. Mike was about a quarter of the way into the story, and had finished setting things up for the main crisis point.

"Okay, so they're on the plane, right?" Mike leaned closer to his brother's mattress, slipping into story-teller mode. "And it's going down into the ocean, if you remember."

A mild look of irritation crossed Don's eyes, and Mike almost laughed. He'd left Donatello at this point over two weeks ago, without ever finishing the chapter. "I still don't have the rest of it written down, Donny. It's all kind of jumbled in my head, but I'll try to explain where I'm going. I really _do_ have a purpose."

Donny nodded at him to continue.

"Even though they're crashing in the water, they're all gonna make it off the plane. There's an island not real far from where they ended up, and they're going to make for land. It's already dark, and everything is kind of in upheaval. I mean, the pilot is unconscious; Grant is hurt pretty bad…they're all hurt in some fashion. I mean, they fell out of the sky. The only thing that Aidan and Andrew are thinking about is getting off the plane and making it to safety.

"I don't know what kind of an island it is yet. I want to find something real, so it can read more authentic, y'know? I bet you'd have some good ideas. It needs to be someplace where they could actually find things they need to survive, because they're gonna be stuck there for a while."

At Don's knowing smile, Mike shook his head. "I know, I know. I gotta do my own research, because it's half the fun. I've got news for you, Donny. It's only fun if you're looking over my shoulder, trying to figure out where I'm going next."

Donatello gave him an exasperated look, as if urging him to finish what he'd started.

"So anyway. The four of them that were on the plane all make it to the island, but Aidan and Andrew are the only ones who are fit to do anything. That whole first day is just gonna be spent with them figuring out how they're going to survive by living off the island, and what few things they possess. It's not until the second day that Aidan's gonna remember the little black box from the airplane."

Don nodded once more.

"You know where I'm going with this, don't you? The box has a homing beacon inside of it, and it could help draw rescuers to them. The only problem is, they didn't bring it with them when they abandoned the plane. It's somewhere underwater with the wreckage now."

His brother rolled his eyes.

"You knew it wasn't going to be easy, didn't you?" Mike smirked. "They didn't even think of it when they were jumping out of the plane the other night, trying to survive. Now they're going to have to go underwater to find it, and you might recall that Andrew doesn't like water of any kind. But he doesn't have a choice in this case, 'cause he's not sending Aidan alone either."

Mike hesitated for a beat. "This island is gonna be the kicker for the two of them, Donny. It's just the push they need for something to finally happen between them. I'm not sure how long they're going to be stuck there, so I'm kind of playing that part by ear. If it ends up being longer than I thought it would, well, you're just going to have to deal with that," he finished teasingly.

Donny gave him a genuine smile, and Mike grasped his shoulder.

"I'm really glad you've fought through this, Don. I know this part can't be too much fun, but you're gonna get better."

His brother nodded.

"And then you'll really be putting a fire under my shell to force me to finish _this_ book, before I start developing anything for the next one."

Donatello's eyes widened at that, and Mike laughed.

"Did I fail to mention my latest inspiration? I've got plans, Donny, big plans for Aidan. You're gonna have to focus really hard on getting better, so that I'll be forced to get my act together," he said impishly.

* * *

><p>Calley braced against the wall of the dojo as she continued stretching her muscles, in preparation for a more serious workout. It had been days since she'd had the heart to do any dancing. The only time she'd spent in the room had been when she was accompanying Leonardo while the turtle ran through his own katas.<p>

It was Karina who'd gotten on her case that morning. She'd reminded Calley of the risk of losing flexibility if she put off the workouts for too long. She could feel the built-up tension in her muscles and knew that Karina wasn't wrong. Calley had separated herself early that afternoon to get in some exercise on her own, but she was struggling. Regardless of how long she'd dedicated to stretching, she still didn't feel loose.

The young woman dropped onto the mat and tried extending one of her legs out in front of her again. As she leaned over her outstretched limb, she felt muscles giving a little, like they only needed a bit more coaxing.

That state of her body seemed to match that of her spirit, ironically. Calley never relished in speaking about nor chose to dwell on the topic of the Akiudo, but that didn't stop the gang from coming to mind.

_It's impossible to erase memories. No matter how much time passes, I'm not going to forget what it was like living under Shirou. He has no more power over me, but the gang is once again asserting their influence over a world that should have been rid of them._

Calley wasn't given to fits of anger, but the thought of the Akiudo rising from the ashes was enough to make her want to scream. _How can they possibly still be planning anything when they don't have a head? I want to believe that any who are left will fade back into darkness and obscurity. Maybe they'll fall back into crime in some small-time aspect, but the Akiudo itself shouldn't be capable of hurting anyone again. But then, if Yukiko is alive…_

Calley's experience with the Asian woman was limited, though she'd lived under the same roof as the Akiudo for months. Shirou was a jealous master, and usually kept her locked up for his sole use. But on the rare occasion that the man had been in the mood to show her off, Calley had glimpsed Yukiko. Of all the frightening individuals under the headship of Takashi, no one gave her a colder feeling than the Asian woman, not even Shirou, her tormentor and abuser.

_Shirou was little more than a child himself, experimenting with me and fulfilling whatever desire came to his mind. Yukiko was something else altogether that I never truly wanted to decipher._

From Takashi at least, she'd sensed some kind of "love" for his son, Shirou, though he wouldn't have spoken the words out loud. Calley knew that Takashi was capable of showing a type of mercy because of the very patience he'd allowed for her master in several cases.

_But Yukiko, she holds love for nothing and no one. There is only room for manipulation, violence, or respect inside her. She is loyal to Takashi, perhaps more loyal than any of his other men. Yukiko would certainly obey him, no matter what he asked of her. Yet I don't think she loves him, or any of those men that she helps lead. I pray to God that the informant was wrong. I don't want to think about what Yukiko might be doing in Takashi's absence. _

Calley heard the door opening while she still had her head down, and called out a greeting before she saw her visitor. "Hey, Leo. I'm not late, am I? This is taking longer than I thought it would."

"Calley, no one said you had to watch this show with us," he returned. "In fact, I'm not all that interested in TV right now either."

She tossed blond bangs out of her eyes as she gave him a wry smile. "Were you considering just keeping me to yourself?"

Leo grinned back at her as he drew his legs underneath him on the mat. "The thought had crossed my mind, Calley." The spark of playfulness in his eyes faltered as he gave her a serious look. "Is everything okay?"

"It's just harder to loosen up than I expected it to be, and my mind isn't helping matters."

Leo's gaze became more thoughtful. "Do you want some help?"

Calley nodded. "Sure. Two is better than one," she replied, automatically relaxing onto her back on the mat. She'd worked with several partners throughout her dancing career, and even other dancers were often unnecessarily rough with stretching her hamstrings.

The blue-masked turtle had won her over the very first time they'd engaged in partner stretching. She smiled faintly to herself as she remembered how abashed he'd been that day, but they worked together seamlessly now. Leonardo pulled her right leg against his shoulder, and slowly stretched the limb forward with careful pressure.

Calley breathed in and out deeply as he advanced to another position with her hamstring.

"Is that okay? I'm not hurting you, am I?" Leo asked.

Calley released another breath before she answered him. "No. It feels good, Leo. Keep pushing it a little longer."

"You'll give me the signal if I _am_ too rough, won't you?" His tone was more teasing than serious.

"I know what signals to give you," she said pointedly, motioning to him with her index finger.

"I'm not familiar with that one."

"It's kind of universal, Leo. It means come _here_."

The turtle bent down from his kneeling position, and Calley sat up to wrap her arms around his neck. She felt a release when she kissed him that did more for her spirit than three hours of stretching could have.

Calley held onto the kiss until she needed to breathe, and smiled at the boyish way that Leonardo rubbed the back of his head.

"I didn't want to watch TV anyway," he said.

She chuckled. "Yeah, Leo, me neither."


	32. Waiting in the Wings

Donatello stirred awake at the familiar sound of keys tapping in perfect harmony, and rolled his neck in the direction of the desk. He squinted and made out Caleb's reddish-brown hair. He instinctively tried to call out to him, before remembering that he _couldn't_ speak.

While he waited for the man to notice him, he wriggled his fingers experimentally to find out if he'd gained any new mobility. He made a fist with his right hand, but couldn't so much as rotate his wrist. Donatello sighed inwardly. _I guess it's time to try something else. Something has to work._

He flexed his right foot, and was pleased to discover a wider range of motion than he'd had previously. With a strong sense of concentration, Donny shifted his foot sideways. To his annoyance, he couldn't move it with sufficient strength to create any kind of sound against the railing.

Frustration was swift to leap to the surface, making him want to fume over his inability to do a single thing for himself. As disconcerting as it was to barely be able to move, the lack of communication was getting to him the most.

Donatello wanted to grill the docs with questions every time he saw them. He understood that they wanted to use stem cells to help him, but the dizzying words they were using among each other made him feel like they were speaking another language. The turtle had readily agreed to any procedure that stood the chance of helping him regain function in his mind and body but he _didn't _understand what the next step was.

Donny had a vague recollection that tomorrow was supposed to be important, but the specifics of how the stem cells could initially impact him were lost somewhere in the recesses of his mind. _They told me, I'm _sure_ they told me, but it's still escaping me. It's as if things keep getting buried, and I'm too tired to dig them up. I don't even have the ability to ask them to tell me everything again._

Anger at the situation and his faltering mind made him want to curse, though he couldn't voluntarily utter a sound. He could only lay there and watch the back of Caleb's head, until—

The man turned and the overhead lighting glinted off his glasses. Caleb's blue eyes widened slightly when he found the turtle staring at him. "Hi there, Donatello. I'm sorry I didn't notice you. Have you been up for very long?"

Donny shook his head. Inwardly he recognized that all of Caleb's current efforts were for him, but it was difficult to rein in the irritation that was boiling under the surface. Caleb studied him for a few seconds, and concern reflected in his features.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked.

_Why would something be bothering me? Just because I'm barely moving, thinking, or talking? Is that something I should be upset about?_

"Do you need to see someone else?"

Don shook his head. _Not necessarily. You have to know more about this procedure than anyone else does._

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

The turtle shook his head as emphatically as he could manage.

"Then you want me to talk to you."

Donatello nodded wearily.

"Do you want to hear something specific? Do you still have questions about what's going to happen tomorrow?"

Don nodded once more. _Tell me everything again. Maybe I'll remember it for a couple of hours._

Caleb grabbed a desk chair and wheeled it across the room so he could sit by the turtle. "Okay. There are a couple of different methods we could use for getting the stem cells where they need to go. The one we selected is the least invasive and most effective way to target specific lesions.

"It's called a stereotactic brain injection. It will involve the application of a temporary frame to help us map the areas where the transplants are going to be delivered. The process requires making very small nicks in your scalp, so that a thin needle can be inserted to make the injections.

"The stem cells are going to be surrounding the lesions, where they have the best potential for stimulating the healing of damaged cells. In the case of using the iPs cells, we also have a good chance that they will replicate to help replace the dead cells. Obviously nothing like this is taking place in the States yet, but the procedure is being carried out regularly in other countries, such as China.

"Depending on which doctor you subscribe to there have been varying degrees of success, but the rates of recovery numbers are high. I've seen posted results of 70-84% effectiveness in patients regaining function. The impact of the procedure has been significant, even with only one or two transplants.

"The complete results won't be realized for 6 months to a year, but the immediate effects of many cases have been astounding. The doctors are seeing increased cognitive ability with improvement in memory and problem solving skills, greater flexibility and coordination, along with strength building and a capacity for exercise.

"What all that means is that you're going to be set up in the best possible position for therapy. If all goes well with the first treatment, we can begin a second within five days. The sooner the injured cells are addressed, the better impact the procedure should have. Does this make sense, Donny?"

Donatello nodded solemnly. _Yeah. My greatest chance for getting my life back is in these injections. But am I going to talk?_

"Would you be inclined to let me do whatever I wanted with you, even if you didn't understand it?" Caleb asked.

At his repeated nod, Caleb gave him a small smile. "I'm honored by your confidence. I'm hoping that I can earn it all over again."

_You don't have to earn it, Caleb._

"The interesting part about the therapy in our case is that most of China's procedures have been carried out only using adult stem cells. They've harnessed the ability to encourage cells to repair themselves, but they haven't been replacing dead ones. The iPs cells I use are still a new technology, and the ability to create them efficiently at a lower cost isn't something many people can do. It requires the use of special equipment, as you well know." Caleb gave him a wider grin.

"I was preparing for this eventuality while you were still in a coma, Donny. It was a step of faith at the time, but I really believed you would come back to us."

Donatello wanted to sigh. _I'm back, but I'm not _back_. Maybe this treatment can help change that._

The effort to keep his head up was becoming too much for Donatello. The turtle leaned back against his pillow tiredly, suddenly realizing what had made him feel wearier. _Focusing on people for any length of time requires a lot more work than it should. I shouldn't need a nap every time I listen to someone talk. _He hated the feeling and couldn't contain the scowl that came up with it.

"Am I bothering you, Donny?"

_No_, I'm_ bothering me, Caleb. _Donatello blinked his answer to the man this time, instead of shaking his head.

"Are you getting tired?"

Donatello rolled his eyes.

"Donny, you've been through something that a lot of people wouldn't have survived. There's nothing wrong with taking things slow. We're not in a race against time. It's more like a marathon, long distance running. And yes, you're going to wear out faster than you ever have in the past, but at least you have the chance of competing, and the opportunity to recover. After tomorrow, you should be able to take some stronger strides. In the meantime, don't get angry that you need the extra rest."

A light scratching at the door garnered Donatello's attention and he raised his head for a moment before he had to lie down again. Caleb rose from his chair with a smile.

"I know who that sounds like."

As Caleb walked over to the door, Donatello tried to follow him with his eyes. "All right, you guys. Ten minutes, and that's all you're getting."

As the two Border Collies entered the room Caleb carefully steered them clear of important equipment. It didn't look like it was really necessary for the man to shoo them in the right direction, at least not in Molly's case.

The female Border Collie made a bee-line for Donatello, whining softly as she pawed the mattress and nudged his arm with her nose. He smiled at Molly as she pressed her head under the railing, and dug her nose under his hand.

The turtle couldn't quite pet her due to the way in which she was stuffing her muzzle into his palm, but then the dog changed tactics. As she wedged the top of her head under his hand, his fingers finally made contact with her fur. The action pleased Molly so much that her entire body wriggled with her excitement.

Donatello could feel the deep lines in his forehead receding as the dog lingered on the edge of the bed. Noah made a small leap toward the mattress too, and Caleb hovered close by to keep both border collies under control. Don felt badly that he couldn't touch both dogs at once or speak to them, but they appeared happy just to see him.

_That's one of the best things about animals. They just want to be with you._

He would have been content for the dogs to stay longer than Caleb was willing to allow. They were still nudging his side and trying to lick his arm to death when the man finally reached to pull them down.

"You'll get to see more of them, Donny, I promise," Caleb assured him. "It has to be in small spurts because of how rambunctious your friends are. Your buddies miss you, Molly especially."

Caleb dragged the Border Collies backwards toward the door, and used his foot to help guide an unwilling Molly back into the living area. When he shut the door, Donny could hear the dogs whining on the other side.

"I feel like I'm torturing them, the poor things. Everybody wants a piece of you, Donatello, even the animals. The waiting list to get in this room never ends. Doc has to institute quiet time so that people aren't constantly knocking down the door."

Donatello smiled faintly. _Nice to know they don't want to avoid me in this condition. I wonder when Jen was here last. I wish it wasn't so hard to remember. I wish _a lot_ of things could be easier._

Caleb rested a hand on his shoulder, and the warmth of his touch was comforting. "You feel a little cold," he commented. "Do you want to try using another blanket?"

Donatello nodded once, and the man retrieved another thin blanket from a nearby shelf for him.

"You should sleep now," Caleb told him. "I'm sure you feel like that's all you're doing, but you need it, Donny. Things are going to get better. Believe that, and believe that we're going to stick with you through this entire process. You're never going to be alone."

Donatello watched the man through half-closed lids, grateful for the way Caleb hovered as he was falling asleep. _This is the safest I can remember feeling. I know he's got a plan, and he's so good at what he does._

Surrendering to sleep meant the risk of losing information Caleb had just given to him, but it couldn't be helped. Knowing everything that was going on didn't seem to matter as much as it had a few minutes ago. The only thing he wished was that he could have seen Jenna.

_She'll still be here when I wake up. Caleb's right, nobody's going to abandon me, no matter how bad this gets. That's what makes this such an amazing family. No one is left behind, forgotten. All of this physical stuff is temporary. I think I can deal with all of it, knowing that they're all waiting in the wings for me. _


	33. Shell

***I just wanted to take a moment today to thank my friends and faithful reviewers for all of their support. You make all of the sweat and tears I pour into writing these stories worth my time. No one but my younger sister (who is constant witness to the number of hours I spend shut-up in my room, and often complains about it) knows how much work goes into writing fics at the pace that I do. It's insanity. It really is. But I do it because I love it, and because I crave the interaction with other people. Thanks for being there - thanks for reading. :)**

* * *

><p>It had been another somber day around the Den, although Brandon didn't mind the silence. He preferred the quiet whenever he could get it, but he couldn't stand to be shut up in the bedroom for hours either. Brandon had found himself often seeking out the company of others, despite not having any true desire to <em>interact <em>with them. Everyone had been cooperating with his wishes today, to the point that he hardly noticed when someone left, or another person replaced them.

Brandon felt like an empty shell compared to the man he _had _been, and he couldn't think of anything that might be able to cure the feeling. He'd attempted to stay numb and avoid his emotions as much as possible, but the flashbacks and unexpected triggers brought them to the surface, whether he wanted to deal with his feelings or not. Part of Brandon's mind told him he was being ridiculous, but he was incapable of overriding the daunting fear that gripped him more strongly than anything he'd ever felt.

As he leaned against the couch that afternoon, however, his thoughts were centering on the only other subject that had been able to occupy his mind - a certain purple-masked turtle. The so-called "procedure" that the docs had performed that morning wasn't surgery any more than Mike's stem cell transplants had been, but the atmosphere was still muffled.

Brandon looked around the room, focusing on both of his sisters and Leo and Raph in turn. The absence of any noise from the kids suggested that they were either napping, or being entertained somewhere else. He hadn't noticed when they'd left the room, in any case.

His eyes traveled to the door that led to the Lab, and he considered getting up to knock on it. Luke had told them hours ago that Donatello was doing fine; the turtle hadn't even been fully sedated for the procedure. But working up the energy to rise and walk into the next room wasn't even something he felt like doing. The only small comfort Brandon had experienced of late was in being idle, where nothing actively bothered him except for the physical aches and pains that remained from his ordeal.

Despite the fact that he didn't want to move, the image of Donatello continued to sit in the back of his mind, like a memory that was unwilling to be repressed. Brandon had spoken with the turtle a little when he'd been unconscious, but since Donny had come around, he'd barely spoken a word in his presence. He'd made a number of trips to see Donatello in the company of others, if only to assure his faltering mind that his friend wasn't dead, as his visions often tried to convince him.

Presently he heard someone's voice buzzing in the background, and Brandon snapped out of his reverie to see Luke and Jenna both standing nearby.

"All of his life signs have been normal," Luke was explaining. "Don's been conscious, and he knows where he is. We won't know how effective the procedure was for a couple of days probably, but Caleb has high hopes for him."

Jenna smiled, and Brandon marveled at the genuine relief in her features. _She seems really convinced that Donny is going to be okay. I hope things _will _improve quickly. Don doesn't deserve to be stuck in some kind of weird limbo for the rest of his life because I "stormed" when I should have stayed._

"So it's all right if anybody else would like to see him; the visits just need to be brief," Luke went on. "He's still getting tired out easily, and I think even listening to others talk becomes a burden."

"I want to see him," Brandon said before he could stop himself.

The reaction from the rest of the room was instantaneous, as nearly everyone's head snapped toward him at once.

"Am I _allowed_ to see him?"

"Yes, Brandon, of course," Luke replied. "The statement about anyone being welcome included you."

The bronze-haired man got to his feet, unconsciously clutching his broken arm against his chest.

"Do you want me to come, Bran?" Raphael offered.

Brandon shook his head. "No. I want to do this myself." He snuck a glance at Luke to see _his_ reaction, and didn't miss the way the doctor caught his breath. "I'm not going to hurt Donny, you guys. Please believe that. I know I'm screwed up, but I'm not _that_ out of my mind." _At least, I don't think I am_, he added inwardly.

"Okay," Luke said evenly. "Come on in."

Brandon shuffled across the room and followed the doctor into the Lab. Caleb was inputting some kinds of numbers into the computer, and Don was sitting up with the aid of the raised back of the bed.

Luke cleared his throat. "Caleb? We're going to give Brandon a little while with Donny."

The bespectacled man turned around in his chair and nodded toward Brandon. "All right. It would probably do me some good to get out of this room for a while anyway. Watch over him well, Brandon."

Brandon knew that the men were a little concerned about leaving him alone with the turtle, and he didn't really blame them. Still, he was grateful when they left, and he could face Donatello's gaze on his own.

"Hey," he greeted the turtle, his voice cracking slightly. "You're sitting up." It wasn't much of an opening, but it was all the man could manage.

Donny nodded, eyeing him curiously as Brandon reached to drag a chair closer to where he was lying.

"You're going to have to give me a little leeway, Don," Bran said after a few more beats of silence. "Things are messed up, I…_I'm_ messed up, in case you couldn't tell. But you don't really know very much about it, do you? I asked them not to tell you."

The turtle shook his head, but the concern in his brown eyes deepened.

"I don't think anyone's told you the whole story of that night yet, because it's just…it's not easy to go back there, Donny. I'm sure you probably don't remember it, and I wouldn't want you to. But that night, among other things, is one that I can't get out of my head. Did you know that we had a fight?"

Don's eyes widened suddenly, and traveled to Brandon's arm. The man _almost_ laughed.

"No, you didn't hurt me – it wasn't a physical fight. I found the records that you'd been keeping on my dad, and I lost it."

Donatello's guilty grimace at least told Brandon the turtle knew of the papers to which he was referring.

"I started out by demanding an explanation, but then I didn't want to hear it. I ran out on you that night, and went back to my apartment. I was hard on you. But as angry as I was…it wasn't really about _you,_ Donny. I was just frustrated about my dad, the man that he is, and always will be. He'll never change, but that's not really the point."

Brandon paused, looking down at the floor. "What happened next is complicated. I got into trouble on the surface, and I didn't have a chance to call for help or set off my beacon. Truth is, I didn't _have_ my phone. I accidentally left it underground in my stupid rampage to escape my emotions.

"That's why you came to the surface, Don. You were already settled in for the night, and had no intention of going anywhere. But you came up to return my phone, and to try and fix things from the fight we'd had. You're always the peacemaker. You probably would have said or done anything to make up with me. Instead you were attacked too, and nearly killed."

Brandon held Donatello's steady gaze for a moment, and sensed the questions that the turtle _wanted _to ask. No one had told Don about the resurgence of the Akiudo yet, and he wasn't going to be the one to spill the news to him. As the turtle's stare became pleading, the man shook his head.

"I can't, Donny. I just can't. I'm sorry." He hung his head as tears came. "Both our lives were changed that night, but there's something I can't escape from, no matter what I do. You shouldn't have ever been in the line of fire. You wouldn't have been anywhere near the danger if I hadn't gone off that way. None of this would have happened to you."

He glanced up as he caught Donny's movement out of the corner of his eye, and saw the turtle shake his head emphatically.

"You wouldn't blame me, Don, because that's not the kind of guy you are. But when it comes down to it, I set the events into motion. In a way, I almost feel like I deserve what I got. But you? You don't know how hard it is to see you like this. I wish I could trade places with you, because I'm positive you'd deal with this better than I am. Not that I'd want _you_ to have gone through that crap either.

"It's a losing situation no matter how I look at it. It's ironic to see you fighting tooth and nail to hang onto your life, when all I'd like to do is let go of mine."

Donatello shook his head sharply.

"You don't understand," Brandon whispered. "It's different, everything is different now. There are no colors; it's all black. No amount of blankets or heaters can make me feel warm. Nothing can fill me up. Food doesn't taste good, water doesn't…" He shuddered involuntarily. "I can barely drink anything without remembering the panic, the sensation that I was drowning. It's all I can do to choke something down, and people have to watch to make sure that I do.

"Everyone's trying to help me. I couldn't ask for better friends, but they don't get it. I don't want help, I don't want _anything_. I want to fall asleep and not be forced to feel or to wake up again. It would be better, a lot better than living life this way. I wish my captors would have finished me properly, and let me have the chance to die for you. I could have felt heroic then, as if I was actually accomplishing something good. Instead I'm a tormented wreck who doesn't even resemble a real person."

Brandon's words spilled out much more freely than he'd intended, and he could instantly see that he was upsetting the turtle. The sight of rising tears in Donatello's eyes made him wish that he hadn't come into the room at all.

"I'm sorry for making you my sounding board, Donny," he said hoarsely. "I don't feel like I'm in control of my own mind; it feels like everything is in chaos. I shouldn't have done this to you. I'm sorry." Brandon rubbed his eyes wearily.

Donatello's frustration with the situation came out as he shook his head again.

"I'm sorry for barging in here and upsetting you, Donny. That wasn't my intention. It all came up, and now it's out there, and I can't take it back. I shouldn't have come." Brandon paused, but he couldn't think of anything else to say that would possibly make things any better.

"Make sure you rest, Donny, because this family needs to get you back. I know you'll make it; that's not even a question in my mind. You and your brothers are strong. I used to think I was too, that nothing would be able to break me completely. Being with you guys has the effect of making someone feel bolder, and less afraid of things. Now everything's been turned upside down, and I really don't know if I'll be okay again."

Brandon got to his feet ponderously, as if he'd just absorbed several more pounds of weight on his frame. "When it comes down to it, I have no one to truly blame except for myself."


	34. Comforting

Leonardo looked up in surprise as Brandon suddenly came barreling through the door of the Lab, and bolted through the living area. In the time it took the turtle to get confused, Katherine had leaped to her feet to follow her brother, and Luke had swiftly gone to check inside the Lab.

Leonardo made eye contact with Raphael and shook his head. "I don't think leaving the two of them alone was such a good idea," he said morosely.

"Leo, Raph," Luke called tensely. "C'mere."

Both turtles got to their feet to join the man under the door frame and peered into the room. The sight of Donatello crying was almost too much for Leonardo to handle.

"It would probably be better for you guys to deal with Donny, and I'll go help Kat with Brandon," Luke offered.

Leo exchanged another glance with Raphael, and nodded at the doctor. "Okay, Doc. We'll try and calm him down."

Luke quickly departed as they ventured inside the Lab. Leonardo didn't bother with sitting down; he was too concerned with figuring out what Brandon could have said or done to get his brother worked up.

_And he can't tell us…so we're going to have to figure it out on our own._

Leonardo felt Raphael's eyes on his back as he hesitated, and he decided to _do_ something. The blue-masked turtle walked over to the sink and retrieved a wash cloth off the top of a pile. He dampened it under the faucet and went to sit down at Donatello's side. Leonardo saw his brother's grimace of frustration right before Donny tuned his head away.

"Don't do that, Don," he said softly. "We're your brothers – we want to help."

Donatello shook his head and intentionally kept his face buried.

"_Donny_," Leonardo said more sternly. "Stop avoiding us."

He softened the instant Donatello's chocolate brown eyes met his, still brimming with tears. "You don't have to be ashamed of crying, or being frustrated. This is an insane situation you're stuck in, and I think you've been handling it really well. But at some point, something has to give."

Leonardo folded the washcloth over and dabbed his brother's face lightly. "What happened just now? Was Brandon mean to you?" he asked carefully.

Donatello shook his head immediately.

"But he's the one who upset you?" Raphael asked.

The younger turtle nodded, and his face screwed up with irritation.

_Shell, he wants to tell us something so badly, he can hardly stand it_, Leonardo thought to himself. _We're going to have to start making guesses to get the ball rolling._

"Did he tell you what happened to him?" Leo asked.

He saw the hesitation in the way that Donny shook his head, suggesting Brandon had shared _something_, but not the entire story.

"Did Bran sound hopeless?" Raphael suggested. "Did he say stuff that's making you worry about him?"

Donatello nodded, and his gaze traveled to the door.

"Don't worry, Don, Brandon didn't go anywhere," Raphael reassured him. "He's still here; Kat and Doc are looking after him. I know that doesn't help _you_ much, when all you could do was listen to him without saying a word."

Donatello nodded mournfully, and fixed each of his brothers with a pleading look.

"He wants to know what's going on, Fearless," Raphael said. "Wouldn't you?"

Leonardo agreed with his red-masked brother's assessment, but he was at a loss as to how to proceed. The scowl he received from Donatello's direction indicated that his brother wasn't pleased by the way he was holding back.

"I'm sorry, Donny," Leo apologized. "You deserve to know what's going on with Brandon, and what happened to you. The only reason we held off was because we didn't want to overload you. You realize that what happened to Bran and your own injuries are connected, don't you? That is, the same people attacked you separately."

Don nodded, and motioned with his head for him to continue.

"There's no easy way to say this, so here it is. The Akiudo is still out there, Don, some of them at least."

Leo was silent for a few seconds to give Donatello time for the news to sink in. His brother didn't appear to be as shocked by the news as he'd expected him to be. "They were only a small band led by Daichi. They tracked Greg down to the apartment, and they took _Brandon_ the evening that he was supposed to be flying to Jamaica. I don't suppose you remember anything about that night."

Donny shook his head.

"You and Brandon had a disagreement over something, and he accidentally left without his—"

Don's nod cut Leo off mid-sentence.

"You remember that?"

A pained look came over Donatello's face as he shook his head.

"_Bran_ told you, didn't he?" Raphael asked.

Donatello nodded once more.

"I don't know how much he told you, but Brandon was gone before you got there, and the Akiudo was waiting when you arrived. We have to take one of their warrior's word for it, but he said that they had a lot of trouble taking you down. You were hurt in the process of trying to escape, and Bran…" Leonardo choked on his friend's name. "Don, they did things to him. The Akiudo really hurt him, and we didn't even know they'd kidnapped him for _three _days."

Donatello's reaction to the news was multi-layered, starting with something that resembled shock, and ending with his eyes narrowing angrily.

"We took the men down, if that makes you feel any better," Leo said weakly.

"It didn't make _us_ feel any better," Raphael added bitterly.

"At least Daichi is no longer a threat," Leo went on. "Kat had to shoot him to protect Tim."

The lines in Donatello's forehead were more pronounced than ever.

"The real problem now, besides everything that you and Brandon are dealing with, is that someone _else_ was commanding Daichi," Leonardo told him. "He deviated in taking Brandon and attacking you, but he had real instructions he was supposed to be carrying out."

Donatello's eyes ridges rose questioningly.

"We don't know who was directing him," Leonardo explained. "Our source from the Akiudo said that Daichi claimed to be conversing with Yukiko, as crazy as that sounds. Whether that's true or not remains to be seen."

Donatello closed his eyes as he laid his head back against his pillow.

"I hope you understand that we aren't trying to hide things from you, Don," Leo said. "It's just complicated. Brandon will make a complete physical recovery, but his mind is going to take longer. Doc says he's displaying signs of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Even if he _does _sound hopeless, no one's giving up on him.

"Brandon's going to need time and patience in order to fight his way back, but we all believe that he will. Whatever he said to you tonight, just know that we're on top of him. We know he's severely depressed, and we're not going to let anything happen to him again."

Don's face relaxed slightly, though worry was still etched in his eyes.

"We're also trying to catch up on what could be going on with the Akiudo." Leonardo sighed heavily. "Sayuri is researching things in Okinawa, and looking for outside links to Takashi. Even though it feels like a long shot, he's still following through on the appeal process. I heard Daichi say that Takashi wants to get back into the United States. We're not counting him out just because he's behind bars."

Donatello looked overwhelmed as he rested against his pillow. Leonardo could only imagine what was going through his younger brother's mind, and he hated that Donatello was incapable of releasing any of it.

Leonardo reached toward Donny and squeezed his arm tightly. "We won't rest until we get to the bottom of everything, Don."

Raphael nodded his agreement. "You can say that again, Fearless. I don't care what it takes, or where we've got to go. They went too far."

Donatello opened his eyes to look up at them. Leonardo hated the helplessness in his gaze, and it made him feel even angrier.

The blue-masked turtle pounded his fist against his palm as he shook his head. "Once and for all, the Akiudo is going _down_."

* * *

><p>Katherine stared mutely at her younger brother, wishing that she knew the right thing to say or do. The woman had no doubt that he didn't want company at the moment, but that didn't mean she was leaving him alone in this frame of mind. The man before her more closely resembled a caged animal than her familiar sibling.<p>

Kat threw a glance over her shoulder and saw Luke hovering behind her, looking as if he was lost inside his _own_ questions. Neither she nor Luke had said anything in several minutes, and the sense of awkwardness in lingering around Brandon was only growing.

Katherine took a deep breath as she balanced against the edge of the mattress on which Brandon was perched. "Bran, we're here," she said faintly. "Maybe this isn't very much help, but I still need to say it. We're not leaving you. Eventually, you're going to have to talk about everything. Maybe in small pieces at first, but it's going to come out. It can't stay repressed, or it's only going to hurt you worse."

"Kat, don't. I can't do this." His tone was flat and detached. "Just leave it alone, leave _me_ alone."

"I can't leave you alone completely, Bran, because I'm your big sister," she replied. "I'll let you have some space, within reason. But I'm not going to watch you drown without saying anything."

"It doesn't help," he told her. "Nothing anyone can say will help. This isn't going away."

"Not quickly," Luke spoke up, crossing around to the end of the bed. "It's not going to be an easy battle for you, Brandon, but that doesn't make it impossible. I know it seems like nothing will ever be the same again, but that isn't true. You may have to live with the effects of what was done to you for a long time, but you're too strong of a person to be beat by this."

Brandon shook his head without looking up. "You don't understand."

"No, I'm sure we can't," Luke allowed. "None of us were there, and we didn't go through what you did. But you can't tell me that Daichi or any of those idiots are worth giving up the rest of your life for."

"I asked you to leave this alone," Brandon said sharply. "You _don't_ get it, and you never will."

Luke took a physical step backward. "No one wants to push you, Brandon. I hope you realize that we're only here to help and support you. If it was your sisters or one of the guys in this position, I know you'd be trying to help them too."

"Can you just stop? Stop talking," Brandon ordered. "I didn't ask for any of this, and I don't need anyone to unload on."

Katherine backed up from the mattress as Brandon maneuvered further away from her. "We love you, Bran," she faltered. "Nothing's going to change that."

His eyes flicked up to meet her. "I have to do this my way, Kat. I can't force it; I _tried_ to force it…" He trailed off. "Please leave me alone."

Katherine looked at Luke as the man grasped her shoulder, and then focused on her brother one last time. "I'll be back to check on you," she said quietly.

"I know." His reply was muffled from the way he was already facing the wall.

Luke led the way into the hall, and Katherine shut the door slowly behind them. Luke's arms enveloped her immediately, as though he _knew_ she was about to collapse under the weight of her emotions. He didn't say anything; he didn't need to. Katherine didn't speak either, as she gave full vent to the tears that had been bottled up for far too long. She rested her head against the man's shoulder and clung to the love of her life for all she was worth.


	35. Progress

(Three Weeks Later)

Raphael stood in the doorway of the Lab, watching the interaction between Donatello and Luke. He enjoyed seeing the spark of life in his younger brother's eyes again. Though Donny had yet to speak, the days following two successive stem cell transplants had shown significant improvement in both his spirit and mobility. He hadn't been able to rise from the bed on which he was lying, but Don could move everything by his own will now.

The red-masked turtle was grateful for the improvement he'd seen in Luke's temperament as well. The blond-haired doctor seemed to _thrive_ off of working with Donatello. Raphael couldn't help grinning at the excitement that Luke was barely containing, even though he had no idea what the man had been testing with Donny.

He couldn't resist coming up behind him, and peering over Luke's shoulder. Raphael saw that his brother had one of the thin "tablet" computers on the tray in front of him, and the fingers of his right hand were tracing the over-sized touch-screen keyboard. The speed with which Donatello was typing was nowhere near his normal break-neck pace, but he pressed each letter with deliberate purpose.

Luke wasn't even looking at Donatello for the moment; he was too wrapped up in a second tablet computer that he was holding in both hands. The man started to laugh, right before he finally sensed the turtle behind him and jolted in surprise.

"Easy, Doc, don't go throwing Donny's new toys around. You break it, you bought it," Raphael teased.

"Didn't I tell you guys to start making some more noise?" Luke demanded.

"Yeah, for Brandon," Raphael emphasized. "You want us to walk around here all heavy-footed for _everybody_, Doc? That's not gonna happen."

"I can't for the life of me see why not," the man muttered.

"Don't you, Doc? If we don't _live_ by it, we won't be able to do it by instinct as easily."

"Yeah, Raph," Luke said sarcastically. "I think you guys just get a kick out of scaring us every time an opportunity presents itself."

"Where do you get these ideas?" Raphael smirked, thumping Luke's shoulder.

Before the man could reply, a chime signaled from the tablet in his hand. Luke chuckled when he looked at the screen, and Raphael glanced over his shoulder to see a message field.

_"You caught us, Doc."_

Raphael gripped Luke's shoulder harder as his head jerked up to look at Donny. His brother gave him a half smile and raised his good hand in greeting.

"Doc, you didn't tell us you had him _talking_!"

Luke shook his head. "I just discovered that he could put sentences together, Raph. I've been testing him every day and have seen some progress with words, but nothing like this. I didn't expect him to be this far along when I gave him the computer today!"

Another chime had both of them looking down at the same time.

_"Focus over here please? You know, with the guy who hasn't talked in over a month?"_

Raphael laughed. "Figures you'd go all 'genius' on him, Donny. You're the same as you always were."

"Sorry, Don, we're not trying to talk over you," Luke explained. "It's great to hear from you, even if it isn't out loud. You have to be bursting with all of the things you'd _like_ to say."

The man held the tablet up further so that Raphael could see it more easily while they patiently waited for Donatello to tap out a reply. The red-masked turtle was so excited that his right leg was shaking.

_"You have no idea. You're going to have to pry this thing away from me, Doc."_

"Ha," Luke inserted. "You're still going to have to sleep at some point. I control your IV."

Donatello shook his head at Luke as his fingers returned to the screen. _"You would hold that over my head."_

Luke smiled. "Hey, I know how to get my patients to follow orders. You can go to town right now though; I'm not about to stop you. In fact, I'm going to go tell everyone that you're finished playing hard to get."

Don rolled his eyes. _"Yeah. That's what it was."_

"I'm going to grab your wife, so don't forget how to type before we get back," Luke called sardonically before handing the computer to Raphael, and heading out the door.

Raphael cradled the tablet carefully in his hands, watching the screen for Donny's words more than the visual cues upon which he'd gotten used to having to rely.

_"Make sure you tell Doc that wasn't funny."_

Raphael snorted. "Oh, I got you covered on that one, Bro. I don't know about this computer thing though; I almost feel like I could break it in half. Why the shell is it so small?"

He watched his brother's face this time as he typed a reply, marveling at the calm ease in Donatello's features. _This isn't hard for him to do. He almost looks…normal._

The message alert tone broke Raphael out of thought, and he looked down at the screen.

_"It's the nature of technology, Raph. Everything gets smaller as time goes on. Be gentle, okay? I really like the tablets."_

"I like 'em too, Donny, if they're gonna make it easier for you to talk to us. The thing is a lot lighter than one of your laptops."

Donatello nodded and Raphael grinned at him.

"You sound like your old self, Bro. I don't know how to tell you how relieved I am."

His younger brother practically beamed in response. _"I think I have some idea, Raph. How would you like to be cooped up inside your own head for a month?"_

"I wouldn't. I'd have probably gone mad, especially considering everything going on around me." Raphael heard raised voices from the living area, and what sounded like a rush of feet. "Uh oh, Don. I think you're about to get hit by a tidal wave."

_"Bring it on, Raph, just keep my tablet safe, huh?"_

"I'll try, Donny, but something tells me that your wife is gonna rip it out of my hands the minute she gets here."

_"The chances of that are almost certain."_

"Is there anything you want to say before the whole family comes down on you at once?"

_"Yeah. Could you find one of my masks? I'm tired of feeling so naked."_

Raphael chuckled under his breath. "I'll rustle one up for you, Bro. You just hang tight and watch out for the stampede."

* * *

><p>The last couple of hours had been a blur for Donatello. He sensed the exhilaration in faces and voices of the others around him, even if he could only express <em>his<em> by machine for now. _It's a major step up from being trapped in my head, _he reminded himself. _I can recall when I used to wish that I could have a chance to hear myself think. Now I'd give just about anything to be able to make a sound._

_But this is progress. Caleb said it would be months before the full effects of the transplants would kick in. I need to be grateful for everything I've regained. _

Family and friends had filtered through the room in pairings, despite Raphael's prediction of a tidal wave. _That figures. Doc doesn't want me to get overwhelmed. I think I overdid it as it is, but I don't really care. _The ability to share his thoughts and ask questions of someone else was a gift that he swore he'd never take for granted again. _It's amazing that we don't realize how great we've got it, until we have to lose something._

Donatello had fed off the enthusiasm and excitement of the others, and had managed to even pick up a little more speed as he had continued to use the tablet as his messenger. Now the small computer was set aside, and he was _supposed_ to be resting. Don was physically and mentally exhausted, but he didn't want to relinquish to sleep.

Don closed his eyes for a few seconds at a time, only to reopen them to gaze at Jenna. The raven-haired woman was sitting patiently at his right side, and he'd caught her dozing off a couple of times. When he looked at her this time, she smiled.

"Doc is going to make me leave if you don't get some sleep, Donny."

His eyes traveled to the tray where both tablets had been set aside. Jenna followed the direction of his glance, then looked over her shoulder at the door.

"Okay," she whispered, as if someone else would hear. "I don't think Doc is going to be gone very long, so we have to make this quick."

Jenna slid the tray around to where the purple-masked turtle would be able to reach it, and picked up one of the tablets for herself. Donny grinned at the way that her black hair flailed around her face as she hurried, and was too caught up in the sight to turn on the computer right away.

"I mean it, Donny, Luke could be back any second. Talk fast!"

Donatello depressed the button on his tablet, and gestured to her machine to remind her to turn it on too. The surface of the screen felt nothing like a regular keyboard, but the smooth coolness wasn't objectionable. _Definitely isn't hard to get used to._

He smiled shyly at the young woman as he delivered the one message that he really longed to share. _"I want you."_

His words had the desired effect of making her laugh.

"You're not even on heavy drugs, are you?" she asked.

_"I told you not to mention that day ever again."_

"I'm sorry, Don, but you left yourself open for that."

Donatello thought for a couple of seconds before responding more seriously. _"This has been really hard for me, Jen. I've missed you so much. Maybe that's why I don't want to sleep, even though I know I should."_

"Yes, you should," she said pointedly. "But I've missed you too, Donny. We've all been going a little crazy waiting for some good news. Getting to talk to you today is almost the best thing I could have asked for."

_"Almost?"_

Her light blue eyes averted for a moment, and then met his. "Well, yes, Donny. I miss your voice too. It's one of the most soothing sounds in the known universe. But that doesn't mean I'm not ecstatic to hear from you, because I _am_."

_"You've been so great through all of this, Jen."_

Jenna shook her head. "I've been a real mess sometimes, Don, I just never wanted you to see it."

The turtle gave her a pained look. _"I'm sorry that I put you through this."_

"Donny, this is in no way your fault," she contradicted. "You were attacked."

Donatello nodded. _"I understand that much. But if I'd used a different method to try and escape, this never would have happened."_

"We've all been over that night 1,000 times, and it hasn't helped anyone. This is one of the happiest moments I've had since you were injured, Donny. Don't ruin it with an apology," she chided lightly.

_"You're so great, Jen. You don't know how good it feels to have you here with me."_

She made a scoffing sound. "All I've done is sit around on my lazy bum, except for when Raphael's dragged me into the dojo, or one of the other girls got me involved in some small task. I tried to keep busy with a couple of things, but nothing ever took my mind off _you_."

He gave her an impish smile. _"That's why you're the best…and I still want you."_

Jenna laughed as she set her tablet aside and leaned over him. Her skin against his cheek felt warm and reassuring. He raised his hand to run his fingers through her dark hair, sighing inwardly as she kissed him.

The young woman pulled the tray out of the way to give herself more room, but she barely had a chance to get an arm around his neck before the door to the Lab popped open. Don looked over and saw Luke roll his eyes.

"I keep forgetting not to leave you guys to your own devices. You _need_ sleep, Donny," Luke said firmly.

The purple-masked turtle tapped Jenna's arm, motioning toward the tablet. The woman grabbed it for him, and Donatello waited for Luke to pick up the other device.

_"I need _her_ too."_

Luke looked like he was going to object, but he couldn't stifle a smile. "Do you know how impossible it is to get mad at you right now?"

_"That's what I'm counting on, Doc."_


	36. Rude Awakening

***If this story had a soundtrack (and the way I use music for inspiration, it honestly _could_), things would be getting more serious right about now.**

* * *

><p>Sayuri was awakened out of a deep sleep by a ringing telephone. The Asian woman rolled over in bed with a grunt, and snatched the cordless phone off the hook before even checking to see what time it was. She expected that it was probably a work-related emergency, because a call coming from the States would have involved her cell phone, and not the land-line.<p>

"_This is Kimura_," she answered.

"_Ah, Detective. It has really been too long_."

Sayuri sat up further with a start, immediately suspicious of the tone with which she was greeted. "_Who is this_?"

"_I find it unnecessary to give a name where it is already known, Kimura. I had assumed mine would not cause you to lose any more sleep, but then I come to find that you are looking into my business again_."

Her heart immediately began racing, as if the former leader of the Akiudo was standing in front of her, rather than speaking over the telephone. Sayuri didn't know what she should be more concerned about: that fact that Takashi had a method for contacting her, or that he somehow knew she'd been researching his visitors and his contact with the outside.

_He cannot be calling me from the inmate's phone, _she realized. _I have heard stories of cell phones being smuggled into the prisons, but I never expected—_

_"I promise not to take up very much of your time, Kimura," _the man continued_. "I only wanted to tell you that you are wasting your time in pursuing me. But I suppose with your misguided stubbornness, you would find that impossible to believe."_

_"Why don't you say what you _mean_, Takashi?" _she demanded_. "Why are you calling me?"_

_"You will never be free of me, will you, Kimura? You are going to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder and wondering who is after you. I will put your mind at ease, Woman. Should I desire to finish what was started between us, you will not _see_ me coming, I swear it."_

Sayuri swallowed deeply, warring between anger and fear. She knew from personal experience about the horrors of being hunted by the Akiudo. She'd come too close to them in her past investigation, and had paid a heavy price for it. If the attempts on her life by the gang hadn't been enough, they had also set her up for crimes that she didn't commit.

Sayuri had ended up on the lam, running from the Akiudo who were trying to kill her, and the authorities who wanted to arrest her. _They knew I had information about them, and Takashi wanted to make certain that I could not go running to the Police. In the same way, I still can't go to the Police over Takashi, because it would force me to acknowledge the past link I had with the gang. _Sayuri had long avoided that kind of attention, because of the manner of the assault that had been carried out on the Akiudo's headquarters on Yonaguni.

"_It would be to your benefit and that of your _fosterlings_ that you mind your distance_. _I don't think you want to tangle with us again, Kimura, not now that you're finally happy."_

A surge of protective rage nearly overwhelmed her. "_You will not come near me _or_ those children, Takashi! Do you hear me? This is not a game! I will take your threats seriously enough to call upon the help I need_."

"_And by help, I assume you are not referring to your colleagues from the Prefectural Police,_" he returned smugly.

"_You seem to be forgetting who won, Takashi_," she said shortly. "_You can appeal to the Courts until they finally cut you off, but you are not getting out of prison._"

_"I have confidence in our justice process."_

_"You are a fool," _she proclaimed_. "It is over. Do you honestly expect to resurrect your slave trade after all that's happened?"_

His light chuckle echoed disturbingly in her ears. _"Is that all that worries you? I have no more need for slaves, Kimura. You have nothing to fear."_

Sayuri's brow furrowed as she wondered how near to the truth he was speaking. "_What is your purpose in calling me_?" she asked once more.

"_You never truly escaped my notice, Kimura. You need to remember that, for the sake of Hisui and Shunshi if nothing else_."

"_If you send your people after these children, I will make _sure_ that you don't live long enough to regret it_!"

"_What are you saying, Kimura? I am in prison. What possible threat could I pose to anyone on the outside_?" he asked condescendingly.

"_I know better than that, Takashi! I know that something is going on here, or you wouldn't have bothered to threaten me in the middle of the night_." Sayuri's grip on the phone tightened.

"_Threaten you? All I said was that if I wished to terminate our relationship, I would not give you any say in the matter. Keep that in mind while you are caught up in your 'research'_. _Good night, Detective_."

Takashi hung up the phone, and the Asian woman released a shaky breath. She didn't bother calling after the dead silence that resonated from his end. Sayuri sat motionless on the edge of the bed, wishing she'd dreamed the entire conversation.

_But I'm not that crazy. That was real._

Minutes passed before she realized that she was still holding the cordless phone. Something snapped in Sayuri in that moment, and she slammed the phone down on the bedside table with a _bang_ before lunging to her feet.

Sayuri threw open her closet door, casting clothes aside so that she could reach the wall safe hidden in the back. Her hand was shaking so hard that she had to enter in the combination a couple of times before she could get the safe unlocked. Rapidly she withdrew the SIG P230 pistol, and opened the chamber to verify that it was loaded.

As she ducked out of the closet, Sayuri was assaulted with a terrifying sense of déjà vu. The same desperation clawed at her chest that she'd experienced the _last_ time the Akiudo had sent her on the run. _But it isn't only me this time; I have to be concerned for Hisui and Shunshi as well._

Sayuri paced the length of the small room, grasping the handgun tightly. _This isn't like before – it can't be. Takashi is behind bars, after all, and he can only do so much damage over the phone. But if Yukiko is running things for him from behind the scenes, the woman would have plenty of drive and incentive to make our lives miserable._

_If Takashi is not interested in recovering his business, though, what could his angle be? Why does he want to return to the United States? I fear that it would be for nothing but to target the turtles and bring them down in flames. They ruined his organization, so it stands to reason that he would want revenge._

_At the same time, Takashi did not truly harm Leonardo-san, even when he thought that he'd killed Shirou. I feel as if there must be another motive behind his actions besides revenge, something that is driving him to cling to this hopeless appeal process. But whether or not he can be released, a real threat still exists, and I have disturbed the hornet's nest._

Paranoia was quick to try and overwhelm her mind, and Sayuri shuddered in spite of herself. The gang had nearly succeeded in driving her mad in their quest to destroy her, so much so that she hadn't trusted Greg's motivation when he turned up in Okinawa to assist her.

The man had tracked her down while Sayuri was in hiding, when the woman had thought that she was beyond the grasp of anyone looking for her. She winced as she recalled her stubborn actions that had resulted in the capture of Leonardo and Donatello by the Akiudo that fateful night at HijutoChem.

Sayuri swallowed and her throat felt bone dry, as if she hadn't had a drink in days. _Should we leave? Should I pack up the kids tonight and get out while we have the chance? They could be watching us even now. They know us intimately enough to be aware of Hisui and Shunshi's names. Men may be following them just as surely as they've been tracking me. Have they tampered with my car, set some sort of trap to kill us when we least suspect it? I cannot do this again! I cannot drag the children into it either. It was bad enough when it was just me, but now I have to find a way to protect them too!_

The Asian woman moved to check the window and make certain that it was locked. Then she spun on her heel and ran out into the hall. With gun in one hand, Sayuri scanned the rest of the apartment systematically, reassuring herself that all the windows were locked.

_It won't do any good! _Sayuri was beginning to feel dizzy. _Nothing can stop them! No number of locks can keep them out if they decide to destroy us. Takashi is right – we likely will not even see it coming! _She stared outside bleakly at the city lights of Naha, where nothing looked out of the ordinary. _But evil dwells underneath the surface, and I cannot keep Hisui and Shunshi safe here. I cannot even protect _myself_._

The woman sensed someone behind her, and jerked around with the gun raised so quickly that it made her head spin more severely. The startled figure of Hisui stumbled backward and tripped over a chair. Sayuri instantly lowered the weapon, exhaling from the spontaneous rush of adrenaline that had flooded her veins.

"_Hisui, I'm sorry! I was startled; I didn't expect you to be behind me_!"

The 18-year-old slowly picked herself up. "_Sayuri-san…what are you doing? Why do you have your gun? Did you hear something?_"

"_I apologize, Hisui-kun. I was spooked by something, and I overreacted. Are you all right_?"

"_Yes_," the girl said uncertainly. "_But it doesn't seem like_ you _are_." The young woman's green eyes peered at her steadily. "_Sayuri-san, I can see that something is very wrong_."

Sayuri shook her head. "_I should not have scared you_."

"_Sayuri-san, why don't you ever talk to me? Why do you treat me like a little girl who has to be left in the dark_?"

"_I don't treat you like a little girl…do I_?" Sayuri faltered.

"_Not always, Sayuri-san, but yes, when it comes to some things. I can see the fear in your eyes tonight as if you have seen a ghost. Yet all you want to do is hide from me. Why do you do this_?"

She broke eye contact with the teenager, sighing softly. "_Nothing is ever that simple, Hisui-kun. The past that should be closed has opened wide once more, and every old emotion has come rushing back_."

Hisui walked to the couch, and motioned for her to sit down too. "_Does this have anything to do with Donatello-san_?"

"_Not exactly, though it does concern all of the turtles too_." Sayuri hesitated as she tried to determine the right thing to say.

"_What happened tonight_?" Hisui pressed. "_Something has upset you greatly, and I have a feeling it will affect my brother and I_."

"_How would you know that_?"

"_Because it affects you, Sayuri-san. Tell me, please_."

"_Hisui, you know about the Akiudo, and the threat they once posed to many people_."

The girl nodded. "_And some of them have attacked our friends in the States_."

"_Yes, but there is more. Greg-chan asked me for help looking into Takashi's activities. Takashi was either told this by someone else, or he found out on his own_."

"_How do you know this_?"

"_Because he called me, only a few minutes ago_," she answered honestly.

Hisui caught her breath. "_Takashi called you here_?"

"_He threatened me, Hisui. They know where I am, and they know about you and your brother. I don't know if he really intends to send someone after us, but the warning was very clear."_

"_What about the Police?"_

"_The Police cannot help us in this instance, Hisui-kun. It's too dangerous to reveal the connection that I have to the Akiudo. Takashi may be able to produce evidence of how close I was to their operation before, and I could end up imprisoned too. What would become of you and Shunshi then?"_

"_What will become of us if we do nothing?"_

Sayuri braced her firearm in her lap. "_Hisui, I'm not sure what to do, or where to go."_

The teenager was silent for a long moment. "_What about the going to the States? Shunshi wants to be there, Sayuri-san_."

"_What about you and Kouhei_?"

Hisui's long-time boyfriend was attending college in a neighboring Province. At the mention of his name, the teenager looked a little lost.

"_I don't know. It is difficult to imagine leaving him, but if we are not safe here, what can we do, Sayuri-san?"_

Sayuri rested her forehead in one hand, suddenly feeling overcome. _"I'm sorry, Hisui-kun. This was not supposed to happen. It should have been finished before. You and your brother should not have been dragged into it, but I cannot change that. Perhaps I should have left Okinawa a long time ago. I don't know why I thought I could live a normal life here after everything we went through."_

"_And you are separated from Greg-chan," _Hisui said softly. "_You love him. You don't want to be apart from him forever this way, do you?_"

Sayuri was not used to expressing her emotions freely, but she couldn't help it now that tears had come. _"The separation has become a constant ache, a continuous pain that I grow weary of bearing. I want to be with him, Hisui, but this country is your home. I don't want to drag you away from everything you have ever known or to take Shunshi out of school."_

"_He is not happy there," _Hisui said. "_You know he is not. He talks of nothing but the turtles and New York City. He is still disappointed that he didn't get to see the city in January."_

Sayuri smoothed a hand through her black hair. _"It is not simple to pick up our lives and move this quickly to another country."_

"_Are you forgetting that our father is an American citizen?" _Hisui reminded her. "_Shunshi and I can gain entry into the United States on a more permanent basis_."

"_That is an advantage," _Sayuri allowed_._

"_At the same time, if he meant to do something to us immediately, why would Takashi warn you?" _Hisui asked. "_It could be that he is only trying to scare you off from seeing what he is doing."_

"_That frightens me too," _she admitted. "_It may seem like paranoia, Hisui, but I know what these people are capable of. I am not going to allow you or Shunshi to become casualties."_

"_We don't want you to become one either, Sayuri-san."_

Sayuri took Hisui's outstretched hand in her own. "_We will leave as soon as the United States will grant us entry into the country_."

"_I think you ought to tell Greg-chan what has happened_," Hisui suggested. "_It seems he may have a few ideas to help_."

Sayuri stared at the young woman who seemed so much older than 18. _I ran once, without any idea of how long I could survive. Failure is not an option this time. _


	37. Appeal

Leonardo sat tensely in a chair across from Greg, and gripped the arms tighter as the man pumped Sayuri for information over the phone.

"…Okay, slow down. It's hard for me to understand you when you talk that fast, Sayuri," Greg told her. "I agree with you about that, I don't think it was an idle threat. The question is, what does Takashi hope to gain by clueing you in? I mean, why come out and _tell_ you that his people are watching you? It seems like that phone call had to have an ulterior motive."

All Leonardo wanted to do was take the phone away from Greg so that he could talk to Sayuri himself, but he forced himself to be patient.

"Definitely, Sayuri, I wouldn't send Shunshi back there. School has to be one of the places where the kid would be the most exposed. If you're leaving the country, what difference does it make? He'll catch up. Everything will get sorted out, even if I have to sneak you into the US illegally.

"I _know_ you don't want to do that, Sayuri, but all of you could be facing death in Japan. The threat could be greater than you think—Okay, I'm sorry. You _have_ been in this position before. But that means you remember that the gang has no qualms in killing innocent people just to get to you, right?" Greg stopped to swear.

"I feel like this is my fault. I shouldn't have asked you to look into Takashi. Yes, we need to know what his intentions are, but that didn't have to involve sticking a target on your back! I'm not angry with you, Sayuri, I only want you and the kids to be safe. Don't you get that?"

Leonardo cleared his throat decisively. "Greg, can I have the phone please?"

The man looked irritated, but he handed the cell phone to Leonardo nonetheless. "This all came down hours ago, Leo. She waited all this time to call, and now she's got this crazy idea…"

"Breathe, Heff. Let me talk to her for a minute, and we'll catch up on everything together," Leonardo said evenly. "Sayuri, this is Leonardo," he greeted the woman.

"Hello, Leonardo-san," she returned wearily. "I was trying to explain to Greg-chan why I have to go to Yokohama."

The turtle's brow furrowed. "Isn't that where Takashi is being held prisoner? You want to get _closer_ to him?"

"Leonardo-san, listen. Hear me. If Takashi has access to a phone and can communicate with people on the outside undetected, I fear for what may be coming next. My mind says to flee, and I know that we need to. But how can I leave the country behind, when I have the knowledge that the man is preparing to make another move?"

"I thought you were confident in the Prison's ability to contain Takashi."

"They are not going to contain him, Leonardo-san! He is about to be transferred into Police custody!"

"What are you talking about, Sayuri? What have you heard?"

"It is all part of his appeal process, though this detail just came to light in the Media today! He is claiming to be the victim of racism—"

"Come again?"

"Japan has minorities, Leonardo-san, and the people of Okinawa are considered to be among them. His Defense is exhibiting damaging proof that Takashi has suffered abuse at the hands of Prison management. I don't know if this was set up or manipulated somehow, but the Judge has agreed to move him somewhere else! He requested a transfer back to Okinawa."

"Don't they have a clue who are the Akiudo _are_?" Leonardo felt like he was on the verge of exploding. "It has to be stopped, Sayuri!"

"I know it does, Leonardo-san, that is why I am going to Yokohama to speak with the Judge in person. I will not sit by while Takashi manipulates his way out of that Prison. I will add my own voice to the Prosecution, and ask that he remains where he is."

"But wait, aren't you in danger too? What about the kids? Didn't Takashi say they were watching you?"

"I think that Takashi merely meant to scare me off, now that he is so close to being moved. To the Judge it is merely a transfer, but to you and I who know better…"

"It's an opportunity to escape," Leonardo filled in. "When is all of this happening?"

"He is set to be transferred in two days, which is why I am on my way to Yokohama now."

"What will you tell the Judge, Sayuri?"

"I will remind him of the Akiudo's violent nature, and their history of bloodshed along with human trafficking. I can bring up my old unit that was killed in the bombing they used to destroy evidence. I should not be forced to bring up my private investigation of them, or the part I played in the assault on their fortress on Yonaguni."

"What are you doing with the kids?"

"I bought them one way tickets to Iriomote, but they did not get on the boat. I took them to the Pier to make it seem convincing if someone was following us, and we lost ourselves in the crowds. Then I set them up in a nearby hotel, under a false name. I am hoping that the ruse will satisfy anyone who was trying to track us. They are in hiding, and I feel that this is safer than bringing them with me."

"What if someone comes after _you_, Sayuri?"

Only her silence met him on the other end, and then—"I do not know what else to do, Leonardo-san. I know too many evil things about that man to allow the gang to get easier access with him. I must try and stop this."

"There won't be any talking you out of it, will there?"

"No, Leonardo-san, my mind is made up. I will keep in touch with you, and fill you in as things occur. "

"Be careful, Sayuri," he said dully. _As if that will help her, _he added inwardly. "I'm going to give you back to Greg, all right?"

The blue-masked turtle handed the phone to the man, and then breathed through a heavy sigh. _This can't happen. Sayuri is doing the right thing to speak up against it; I only pray she's actually safe, and the kids. I wish she wasn't so far away. No number of the Akiudo would be enough to break Takashi out of custody if _we_ were there to stop them, at least, not under ordinary circumstances._

_Did we make a mistake holding our ground in the US? Maybe we should have gone to Okinawa to meet the devil in his lair. But we're also dealing with the situation with Don and Brandon, and the uncertainty of the Akiudo that are already in New York._

Leonardo massaged his forehead as he sensed exhaustion wearing on his mind. _Does anyone know the right thing to do in this case? I'm not sure there _is_ a right thing. I just don't want Sayuri to end up dead, or Takashi to get away. This is insanity._

* * *

><p>Mike grinned as he watched Nathaniel support himself with little arms, so that the baby was lifting his plastron off the bed. "That's really good, Nate."<p>

He beamed even more widely as Nate held his head erect to look at him.

"Da!"

Mike laughed out loud at the single syllable the baby uttered. He enjoyed every small milestone that Nathaniel met, but the ability to speak was one of things he was looking forward to the most.

"Da," he repeated after Nate. "You're halfway to 'dada', little guy."

The baby turtle gurgled at him, and it was all Mike could do not to swoop him up in his arms. _He needs to practice getting his own balance, _he reminded himself. _The kid is never going to learn how to do anything alone if I'm holding him all the time._

Michelangelo satisfied himself with kneeling by the end of the bed to watch and see what Nathaniel would do if left to his own devices. The little turtle peered back at him with blue-green eyes and a ready smile. He caught his breath when he saw the young one rock forward on his arms, as if he was going to try to rise onto his knees. The action was short-lived before Nate collapsed on his plastron on the mattress. The baby raised his head to see him again, and Mike waved.

"Hi, bud. What are you gonna do now?"

To his surprise Nate tilted and rolled onto his side. He wasn't successful in getting turned over all the way, but it still excited Michelangelo.

"You're just dying to get mobile, aren't you, Nate? Yep, soon enough you'll be crawling after your cousin Liv, and she'll be teaching you every trick in the book. But you're always gonna be my little buddy."

Mike couldn't resist picking him up anymore, smiling as Nate's strong fingers grasped his chin. A knock at the partially open door had him turning around to see Karina.

The bronze-haired woman shook her head. "I thought your baby was taking a nap."

"He woke up," Mike returned.

"Are you sure _he_ woke up?" Karina teased.

"Absolutely, he did. On my honor, Karina."

The woman laughed. "No one said we had to bring your 'honor' into play. Nate's not the only one who didn't take much of a nap." Karina stepped aside to let Olivia into the bedroom.

The 18-month-old toddled across the room, and threw up her arms when she saw Michelangelo and her little cousin. "Baby!"

Mike put Nathaniel back onto the bed before reaching down to pick up Olivia and setting her beside him. "Are you gonna play nice with your cousin, Liv? I didn't know she was saying 'baby' too, Karina."

"She picked it up from Reina." Karina grinned. "She's getting all kinds of habits from her older cousin. Now that Liv can climb out of her crib, I don't think there's anything to stop her from conquering the world."

"You'd think that could wait until she was like five or something."

Karina made a scoffing sound. "She doesn't have the patience for that. Let's not forget who her father is."

Mike snorted. "Well, she's got you in there too, Karina. That ought to even her out a little bit."

There was a trace of sadness behind the smile that the woman gave him. "I _hope _she takes good things from me, Mike. This is a first for both of us. As a parent, you just want to protect them and raise them right, but genes can be a powerful thing. I recall hearing my Mom tell someone else that I used to give her these looks that reminded her a lot of my father. Yet I barely remember the man, Mikey, not from back then."

"You're nothing like your dad, Karina," Mike said in a low voice.

"I know, but I'm very aware of where I've fallen short, Mike. The last thing I want to do is raise a daughter who can't fight for herself, especially one with the unique nature all of you share. Liv has to be able to stand on her own two feet."

The orange-masked turtle shook his head. _I don't know what it is with these women. Both her and Becky, I don't think they see the same thing when they look in the mirror as we see in them. _

"You _are_ a fighter, Karina. You put up with Raph," he said lightly.

She smiled slyly. "He's easy when you know how to handle him."

"And do you think any random woman could walk right up to him and charm his socks off?"

"You guys don't wear socks."

"For real, Karina. Why do you think it's okay to be meaner to yourself than you'd be to someone else?"

The woman didn't have an answer for that.

"Liv has a strong-willed, compassionate, smart Mama; exactly what she needs to be raised the right way. You have to stop second-guessing yourself at some point."

"I know. I understand that what I do and how I think about _myself _will impact Olivia eventually. It's not easy to change old mindsets, but I'm working on it."

Mike looked over his shoulder to see Olivia crouched on the bed beside Nate, who'd rolled back onto his side. He looked back at the woman with a confident smile. "You've got it in you, Karina."

"I hope those two can be as close to each other as you are with your brothers," the woman said wistfully.

"There's not much choice in this family." Mike chuckled. "Togetherness should be our middle name."


	38. Talking

Donatello's eyes slid open slowly. The Lab was dimmer than normal, which indicated the late hour. His natural urge was to go back to sleep, but a strong sensation of someone lingering nearby stopped him from shutting his eyes. It wasn't unusual for somebody to be watching over him, but this time felt a little different.

Don turned his head and was surprised to find _Brandon_ sitting next to him. _He's here for a reason. I'd better not waste this. _The purple-masked turtle raised a hand in greeting.

Brandon shifted awkwardly in his chair as he reached for the two tablets that were sitting on the tray table where they were typically left. "I don't need to be here, Donny," he said soberly. "If I'm keeping you up, if I'm bothering you, just say the word."

Donatello turned on his side so he could face the man more easily, and adjusted the tablet in front of him. _"Why would I want you to leave?" _he asked.

"Because it's after 2 in the morning, and you should be resting? Because I'm almost unhinged? Take your pick, Donny."

_"Did you come here to talk to me?" _Donatello pressed. He'd _seen_ the man a number of times since their disastrous meeting that had left the turtle questioning his friend's will to live, but the man had barely spoken to him.

"I want to talk to you, Don. I just don't know what to say," he replied honestly. "Geez, if you were inside my head and could see all of the mess going on, it wouldn't be this hard."

The statement struck Donatello as a half-hearted attempt at a joke, and it made him feel a little better about his friend. He studied Brandon's face for a few seconds before he typed a reply.

_"I think you're going to have to _let _someone inside that head of yours if you ever hope to get over any of this."_

Brandon exhaled sharply. "That's the thing, Don – I've tried. I've started to talk to someone, and screwed it up a couple of times. It's bad enough when I'm not focusing on it, but when I try to talk about what happened out loud…" He trailed off helplessly.

_"It seems more real?" _Donny suggested. _"That makes sense. If it's locked inside your mind, it's just imagery, visions that may or may not have taken place. You might feel crazy, but you don't experience the pain as badly."_

Brandon's shoulders sagged. "How on Earth do you see so much?"

_"It's not as hard as you'd think. You're not the first person to deal with PTSD, Bran. In some form or other, all of my brothers and I have been forced to deal with serious trauma. We could tell you a lot of stories about what Raph went through from his ordeal with Stolle and amnesia. None of us can picture the magnitude of what you endured, but in a way, we _do_ understand."_

Brandon shook his head. "This is different, different than anything you guys faced, because _I'm_ different."

_"What does that mean? How are you different?"_

"In a situation like that, survival instincts are supposed to kick in, right? Do you remember clinging to your own life, even when it seemed like you weren't going to be able to hang onto it?"

The purple-masked turtle nodded. _"But I remember getting discouraged too."_

The man lowered his head self-consciously. "There's getting discouraged, Donny, and there's giving up. I gave in to them."

Don's eye ridges rose. _"That's not what their informant said. The warrior my brothers captured said that you never broke."_

"I never _told_ them anything," Brandon corrected. "But I broke into a million pieces. I gave up the hope that you guys were coming to save me. I gave up on the idea of getting out alive."

_"Bran, we've all lost hope before."_

"Did you ever try to die?" he asked bitterly.

Donatello didn't know what to say, but was saved from having to respond when Brandon continued.

"Did you know that it's possible to overcome your body's gag reflex? It's not easy; I had to get to a point where I was completely and utterly exhausted. When I realized the water treatment wasn't going to stop, I said to heck with it, and _let_ it come."

Donny sat up further on his side as Brandon's breathing quickened.

"I wanted to die. I knew they were only playing games with me, and that they didn't want to kill me. I _knew_ that in my head, but it still felt like I was drowning, over and over, again, and again…" The man paused to gulp fresh air, as if he'd been holding his breath.

"I can't get that sensation out of my mind. I go to sleep like a normal person, but I wake up out of breath, and straining like I've been running a marathon. I can't handle being alone for very long, because every shadow and every dark corner becomes somewhere they can hide, and then they'll find me. The demons are still there if someone else is in the room with me, but it's not as bad. I don't have to worry about being caught unaware.

"I don't want to tell you how long it took me to take a real shower. I don't enjoy them, but if I constantly remind myself that I can escape the water, I can get through it. I'm barely doing anything for myself, Donny. I'm not injured anywhere near as badly as you are, but my mind is far more messed up.

"There are still days when I wish they would have let me die on that rotten table, instead of using CPR to force the water out of my lungs. It didn't take them long to catch on to what I was doing. They couldn't even let me _die_ with dignity."

Donatello hesitated for a long moment before typing a reply. _"You've got to try and separate how you're feeling from what you actually _want_, Brandon. You're overwhelmed and your emotions are going haywire. They're not a reliable indicator of your deeper desires. If you take the time to search inside yourself and remember what's worth fighting for, you won't want to give up. That's not the kind of person you are."_

"I already blew a hole in that theory," he muttered.

"_Brandon. You were kidnapped, abused, and tortured. Do you think anyone would stay in their right mind in the middle of all that? They pushed you to the brink of what your mind and body could physically handle. _

"_There's something you need to understand about PTSD. It's not voluntary. It's not something you can wish away, or control with your mind. You're not dealing with this terror because you're weak. It's a psychological reaction that's been engrained in your head because of the trauma you endured._

"_You're not alone, Bran. I know it seems like no one can understand what you've been through, but it doesn't change how we feel about you."_

"It changed how _I_ feel about me," Brandon returned. "And living daily in fear of my own shadow only makes things harder."

"_Have you been to the surface since you were rescued?"_

The man shook his head. "I haven't been anywhere. I'm barely functioning."

"_I think you would do well to see some sunlight. I've heard the others say that our home closely mimics the basement they found you in. You need to get out of here and breathe the free air."_

"I don't _want _to go anywhere, Don. I know I'm safe here."

"_Even if you know that, the terror isn't going to let up on your mind. I think it could help, Brandon, that's all I'm saying. You're going to have to face it eventually, aren't you?"_

The man ducked his head, and then gave him a half smile. "Are you telling me that I can't camp out in your room forever?"

Donny grinned. _"No, I'm not. But I don't think you'll make much progress by hiding in the dark. You need to expose yourself to the light again, and you need to talk about this a whole lot more. As painful as it is, repressing it will only make it worse."_

Brandon slowly reached out to grasp his arm. "I can tell you one thing for certain, Donny. I'm never going to storm out of somewhere like a raging bull again."

The turtle sighed inwardly. _"Bran, you had every right to be upset with me. I should have been up front with you and Karina."_

"You were only doing what Kat asked you to. She told me everything."

"_She never twisted my arm."_

"Don, please accept my apology. I need that from you."

"_All right," _he typed back._ "I accept your apology. Please know how sorry I am for intruding in your affairs too."_

"My Dad is the only one I was ever _really_ upset with, Donny. Not knowing where he was meant I didn't have to deal with any of the old feelings. Now I do."

"_We still don't technically know where he is," _Don pointed out, enjoying the second small smile Brandon gave him. _"You see, Brandon? Things will get better. You just have to keep opening back up every time you feel yourself closing down to people. _

"_I know you'd rather push people away because you feel ashamed, and you think you failed. But you didn't tell the bad guys _anything_! How many people do you think could have withstood what you went through without telling the interrogators what they wanted to know?" _Donatello shivered as a strong current of emotion hit him.

"_Do you know how it feels to be the _reason_ that you were treated so poorly, Bran? I can barely describe it. It feels like getting punched in the gut, every time I think about it. No one should be subjected to that just because they're our friend. It isn't right." _Donny tried to blink back rising tears, but he was unsuccessful.

Brandon broke his gaze for an instant. "Donny, I don't blame you guys for any of this, or even for not realizing I was missing. Daichi told me that they covered it up. I'm also aware of the tremendous risk your brothers took in chasing me down the _instant_ they learned that something was off. I…I haven't even thanked them for that. I should probably get on it, huh?"

"_Bran, just talk to them. Talk to _someone_. Anything's better than keeping it locked inside with nowhere to go. That will drive you crazy – I should know," _he finished on an impish note.

"It's good to hear from you, Don. You have no idea how it felt to go from that awful state your brothers found me in, drowning in darkness, only to learn about what had happened to _you_."

Donatello shook his head. _"I think we can both bounce back from this, if we want it badly enough. But neither of us can do it alone."_

"No," Brandon agreed, looking at him more closely. "You look tired, Donny."

"_I am tired. It's after 2AM,"_ he reminded him, but made sure to smile so Brandon would know he was teasing.

"Yeah, I suppose this conversation could have waited for waking hours."

"_It honestly doesn't matter to me, Bran, because I'm just happy it happened period. I've been worried about you, and I can't chase you down myself."_

"I won't make you wait that long again, Donny. I want you to know that I'm trying. I'd like to be normal again."

"_Who said you were normal to start with? Look at who you're constantly hanging out around."_

Brandon chuckled openly, but then his eyes darkened slightly. "One of my biggest regrets is not getting to see Kat take out Daichi."

"_I would have enjoyed that too, but it sounds like there may be more to deal with."_

The man sighed heavily. "Man, I hope not. I hope everything that informant told the guys was a bunch of fairy tales, and Takashi never gets a taste of freedom again."

Donatello squirmed under a strong sense of foreboding. He knew about Leonardo's conversation with Sayuri earlier that day, but he didn't want to bring it up if Brandon was unaware.

"Are you okay?" Brandon asked. "Are you comfortable?"

"_As comfortable as I can be, given the circumstances."_

"I promise not to make myself a stranger anymore, Don. I probably won't make for good company, because I'm not good at faking it…but I don't want to avoid you."

"_What about everyone else?"_

"I can only do what I can do, Donny," he said vaguely. "I don't know how much I can talk about this. But I know I've definitely intruded long enough for tonight." Brandon put down his tablet, but glanced at the screen again for Donatello's response.

"_It was good talking to you, Bran. Come back and see me."_

"I will. Good night, Don."

The purple-masked turtle was about to hand the tablet back to him, when he noticed someone peering in the window of the Lab. _"They're either looking for you, or checking up on me,"_ Don told him.

Brandon shot him a smirk. "I gave Marc the slip when he fell asleep."

Donatello laughed inwardly and nodded his head when Marcus entered the room.

"Hey, you two," the dark-haired doctor said guardedly. "Everything okay in here?"

"Yep," Brandon replied. "Just getting some cheap therapy."

"_Who's cheap? You haven't seen my bill yet. This was an overnight call, so I have to charge you extra."_

That earned another chuckle from Brandon. "But I came to _you_. Don't I get a break for that?"

"_If you want a break, you can take it on your own time."_

Brandon shook his head. "Good _night_, Donny."

The turtle waved goodbye, and watched the man's retreating form. It took him a minute to realize that Marcus was staring at him.

"What did you _do_ to him, Don?" Marcus picked up the spare tablet in his hand.

"_I didn't do anything, Marc. I don't know why he came to me. Maybe it's because I'm the only one more helpless than he is. You need to find some way to get him above ground, and keep reaching out to him. Brandon wants to talk; he's just not sure how to let it out. There's life there. I can see it. He needs to rediscover it too."_


	39. Transport

Sayuri had a difficult time sitting still as she waited in a quiet corner near the front check-in of the Central Police Station in Yokohama. Her pleas to the Judge had fallen on almost completely deaf ears. While the man had refused to block Takashi's transfer, he'd agreed to send a strong escort along with him.

The Asian woman wanted to step away from the situation with every fiber of her being, but she was unwilling to abandon the operation to another team. She'd irritated the Judge to the point that he'd allowed her to accompany the team who would be making the return trip to Okinawa, on the condition that she wouldn't darken his doorstep again.

Sayuri knew for a fact that Takashi was already in Police custody at Yokohama Headquarters, though she hadn't seen him. The longer she remained in her seat, waiting to be met by someone from the Special Assault Team that the Judge had commissioned, the more nervous she felt.

_Getting transferred is part of his plan, it has to be. _Sayuri fingered her phone anxiously, wondering about Hisui and Shunshi back at the hotel in Naha. _I don't know if leaving them was the right thing to do, but surely they would have been at greater risk by coming with me. Kouhei is supposed to be joining them, and that will make me feel better. Surely one more call would not hurt though…_

Sayuri snapped open her phone and dialed Hisui's number.

"_Hello, Sayuri-san_," the girl said with practiced patience. "_Are you on the road yet_?"

"_No; I am still waiting on assistance to arrive. I feel as if I am going to jump out of my skin at any second_."

"_Are they certain that you will be safe_?" Hisui asked.

"_They cannot be _certain_ of anything, Hisui-kun. These men don't know Takashi or the Akiudo the way that I do. I fear that they will not see this as a threat to national security, as much as a glorified baby-sitting job."_

_"But you have help coming. That is something," _Hisui pointed out.

_"Yes, more than I thought I would receive. You and your brother are staying out of sight, right?"_

_"We are following your instructions, Sayuri-san. Kouhei is waiting on us hand and foot." _The teenager giggled.

Sayuri smiled too, despite everything. "_Hold on to that one, Hisui_."

"_I am trying to. He would follow me to the United States immediately if he could, but Kouhei—Shun, come down from there!" _There was a loud note of exasperation in Hisui's voice. "_Can I call you back later, Sayuri-san? Or is it better for you to call me? Shunshi is making entirely too much trouble stuck behind four walls. He is thoroughly convinced that his karate skills will protect us from any of the Akiudo."_

Sayuri took a sharp breath. "_I don't want to scare him more than necessary, but he needs to be aware of the gravity of the situation. It would be better for me to call you, and I will do that once we are in the air."_

_"Don't worry about Shun, Sayuri-san. I can control him; it simply requires two hands. I'll talk to you later."_

The Asian woman shifted on the hardback bench, resisting the urge to yawn as she hung up the phone. She was tired of waiting, but also dreading Takashi being exposed to access from the outside world. _We could be easy targets once we are on the road, _Sayuri thought ruefully. _If he already has men in place, we could be driving into a giant death trap. This is ridiculous. The Police have no idea of the true danger involved._

She felt someone's gaze, and looked to her right to see an Asian man with crossed arms and the faintest hint of curiosity in his eyes. "_Can I help you_?"

"_Perhaps. I am searching for a Detective Kimura-Sayuri_," he replied. "_I was told she was waiting near here_."

Sayuri nodded, sizing up the man's build, stance, and holstered firearm that bore resemblance to a Glock. "_I am Detective Kimura. I assume you are with the Special Assault Team_?"

"_We are more commonly referred to as the Tokyo Metropolitan Special Unit, but in this particular case, I am only representing myself_."

"_You are the only one who has come_?" she asked incredulously.

"_From that Unit, yes. We have other Officers assisting with the transfer as well, Detective. I think you will find our manpower quite adequate_."

_You don't know the Akiudo, _she thought inwardly. Sayuri swallowed deeply, and her nerves must have been obvious.

"_We will have him under control, Detective. It is roughly 19km to the airport in Haneda, from which we will return directly to Okinawa. The rest of the team is waiting for us, however, so we should get moving."_

Sayuri forced one foot in front of the other, as the fear of walking into a trap increased in the back of her mind.

_"I am Sergeant Hayashi-Hideki," _he said in the same professional tone. _"We are going to get him there safely, Detective. We have taken certain measures to make the trip more secure."_

Sayuri doubted that they were prepared to handle what the Akiudo was willing to dish out, but she wasn't comfortable with saying so out loud yet. "_Thank you for coming, Sergeant Hayashi," _she said automatically. _"I hope the transfer goes as uneventfully as you have planned."_

_"Allow me to give you a small run-down of our process," _he said. _"We have chosen an unexpected mode of transportation for the drive to the airport, and we told the Media that Takashi would not be moved until after sunset. That is not truly the case. We are taking him now, while there is no one to see us leave, or the vehicle we will be taking._

_"You know that the flight to Okinawa is a short one. Takashi is going to be temporarily held in your own Prefectural Police Headquarters in Naha."_

Sayuri nodded slowly, as Hayashi continued leading her through the Yokohama Station, until they reached another side entrance. A stretch SUV was waiting on the other side in the parking lot, the type of vehicle Sayuri imagined more for a celebration than a prison transport.

Hayashi smiled at her surprised reaction. "_It is an effective ruse_," he told her. "_They will not be looking for a vehicle of this nature, if indeed there is a resistance left_."

"_How fast can it go_?" she asked.

"_Fast enough_," he answered. "_We are the last to arrive. Matsuo-Takashi is already inside too._"

Sayuri wasn't sure how she should feel as she was ushered into the vehicle. She fought the urge to tremble, and put on a stone-hard face for the benefit of the Sergeant behind her. She had no sooner climbed in the side door of the SUV than her eyes began scanning the elongated back end, and were drawn instantly to Takashi.

The prisoner was in irons that prevented him from moving from the seat to which he was chained, but her heartbeat increased nonetheless. For a few seconds, Sayuri wasn't sure if she remembered how to breathe.

"_Ah, my old friend, Detective Kimura. What a surprise to see you on this venture_." Takashi's greeting would have sounded warm to her ears if she wasn't aware of the poison behind it. _"You have come to help assure my safe passage back to Okinawa. How thoughtful of you."_

"_I am _here_ to make certain you end up where you belong," _she said shortly. "_I have no intention of making conversation with you."_

"_That is a pity, Kimura. You have so many stories with which you could entertain these fine Officers while we travel."_

"_Leave the lady alone, Matsuo," _Hayashi ordered. "_Sit back and enjoy the free air, because it's the last you will be breathing."_

"_Of course, Sergeant Hayashi," _Takashi replied condescendingly. "_It is an honor to have required two hosts such as you. I have no desire to make any trouble. I only wish to find somewhere to be treated fairly, without fear for my own life."_

"_Without fear for your life?" _Sayuri couldn't resist repeating. "_As far as I am concerned, you are getting off far easier than any of those girls you brutally stole and sold to the highest bidder!"_

"_Detective—" _Hayashi tried to intervene.

"_If it is history you want to discuss, Kimura, perhaps you would like to share with these Gentlemen what _actually_ happened on Yonaguni," _Takashi interrupted.

Sayuri maintained a hardened exterior with difficulty. "_They are not interested in hearing your twisted stories, Takashi_."

"_So quick you are to forget your role in my stories, Kimura_."

"_Now that is enough_!" Hayashi insisted. _"I will hear nothing else between the two of you. Matsuo, mind your manners; Detective, ignore him. I know that's difficult, but you have to do it."_

Sayuri couldn't stop herself from looking toward Takashi once more, and the man smirked right back at her. Fear pulsed in her gut so strongly that she felt like she was going to throw up. She leaned back in her seat and willfully turned her face to the window.

_Of all the absurd situations in which to put myself, this has to be the worst. He possesses knowledge that could do me in, if he could find a way to prove it. _Sayuri rested her head against the window beside her. She couldn't actually see anything through the tinted glass, and it only led to a greater sense of anxiety concerning what could be unfolding around them. _We would not even see it coming, _she thought grimly.

The woman felt her phone vibrate, and glanced down to see Hisui's name appear on the facing. "_Hello_?" she answered vaguely, unwilling to allow Takashi to know with whom she was speaking.

"_Sayuri-san, you will not believe what is happening downtown_," Hisui told her. "_There are protesters; people are gathering on nearly every street corner. There has been some kind of organized effort to rally against Takashi's return to Okinawa_."

Sayuri sat up instantly. "_Are they centered anywhere_?"

"_Not yet, but the News is saying that they are on the move," _Hisui said. _"There has been no violence, only discontent and anger. They have been peaceful, so the Police have not even unleashed forces against them yet."_

"_Thank you_," Sayuri told her. _"I need to look into this further."_

"_Call me when you get on the plane."_

"_I will." _Sayuri hung up the phone and looked at Hayashi. _"We could be facing protesters in Naha."_

His eyebrows rose. "Protesting over him?" He jerked his thumb toward Takashi.

"_That is what is being reported by the Media. None of it has been violent, but the crowds seem to be organized_."

Hayashi shook his head. "_Yes, Matsuo, it appears your Country will be happy to welcome you back with open arms," _he said sarcastically.

Takashi smiled. "_I am sure that Naha's fine Police Department will have no more trouble containing a misguided few than you will have in protecting me_."

The idea that she was "protecting" Takashi made Sayuri want to scream. With a deep breath she flipped her phone open again, and began typing an overdue message to Greg.

_I apologize that you have not heard from me, Greg-chan, but I know you don't support my actions in this case. I am currently accompanying a team of Officers that is transporting Takashi to an airport, from which he will be flown to Okinawa._

_Being in the same vehicle as him is proving to be the greatest temptation I have ever had to kill a man before. I would not mind dying myself if it meant ridding the Earth of him, but my thoughts also dwell on you and the children, Greg-chan._

_Please don't be angry with me, no matter what happens. I don't know if we will make it to Okinawa. I don't know if I will live to see another sunrise. But I know that I could not run away from this responsibility, no matter what it may cost me._

_I wish that I _could _run. I wish that your love for me and mine for you was enough to force me to stay out of it. But I cannot do it. I hope you understand how I truly feel about you. There are some tasks that are more important than we are, Greg-chan. I will update you on our progress as our journey continues._


	40. In the Air

Leonardo felt like his blood pressure was spiking through the roof. "Are you saying Sayuri didn't _tell _you what she was going to do?" he demanded of Greg.

"Not a word, Leo." Greg huffed loudly. "Well, she told _both_ of us that she was heading for Yokohama, but she _never _mentioned serving on the team that's transporting the bastard!"

Leonardo shook his head, frustration burning through his veins. "This has to be a ruse! They must be planning to boost him in transit."

"Tell me something I don't know, Leo!" Greg was clearly furious, but the turtle knew he wasn't actually angry with _him_. "She knows she can't stop the Akiudo single-handedly! Why would Sayuri choose to put herself directly in the line of fire?"

"Because she feels responsible for the man, Heff, the same way you would if you were in Japan."

Greg was still clutching his phone in hand, and looked like he was dangerously close to hurling it. "I _should_ have been there! I should have known Sayuri would try something like this. And what about the kids? How do we know that they're safe?"

"We don't," Leo said bluntly. "We don't know anything."

Greg grunted angrily as he stuffed his phone back into his pocket. He strode purposefully across the room, and Leonardo jolted to his feet.

"Where are you going, Heff?"

"I don't have a clue, but I can't sit still right now!"

Greg yanked the main door open so hard that Leonardo was concerned he could have hurt himself. The man disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel, and pulled the door closed behind him.

The blue-masked turtle considered whether or not he should follow him, and decided to give Greg the space he wanted. _Shell, I hope Sayuri knows what she's doing, but I can't see an up-side to this. This has to be what Takashi was working for all along. We're so helpless from here! There's literally nothing we can do. If I get a chance to see that woman again, I'm going to have a few words for her, _he fumed.

Leonardo looked at the clock which proclaimed that it was about a quarter after 4 in the morning, and sighed deeply. _This is great. There's no way I'm going to be able to sleep now. I wonder if I should wake everyone up and get it over with. _He was a little surprised that Calley hadn't noticed him missing, but she _had_ been deeply asleep when he'd heard Greg stalk through the hallway. _Now he's out running the sewers, and I'm doing nothing. I should have gone with him. At least I would have known if Sayuri messaged him again._

Leonardo closed his eyes briefly as he felt like he was breaking into a sweat. _What could Takashi have up his sleeve? I agree with Greg that he probably had a reason for calling to threaten Sayuri. And if he's not stuck on reviving the slave trade, then what's his purpose? Takashi has had a lot of time to think this through._

As the turtle leaned his head against his hand, Leonardo realized he'd already made the executive decision to not wake the others yet. _It just doesn't make sense to bother them before anything has happened. So what do I do now? I'm supposed to sit here and wait to find out if the Akiudo gets him away from the authorities? Maybe there's some hope. Maybe this team is prepared for the danger, but I find it hard to believe. _

_We should probably be thinking about leaving. If Takashi gets loose, we're going to have to go to Okinawa to help chase him down, with or without Don's help. But the question of how to track him would be a big one._

Leonardo lay back further in the recliner as anxiety twinged in the pit of his stomach. _Why? Why are we going through this all over again? Why did Sayuri have to accompany that team? What are the chances that the Akiudo would allow any of the Officers to live? Of course, Sayuri would gladly die if she thought it would keep Takashi imprisoned._

The minutes ticked by on the clock, although Leonardo was trying not to watch the numbers. He was starting to feel a little groggy as he remained motionless in the chair, until the closing of the front door brought him wide awake with a jolt.

"Greg?" he called.

"I heard from Sayuri again," the man answered. "She said that they made it to the airport without incident, and they'll be in the air within minutes. Maybe the transport team actually succeeded in tricking them."

"Or maybe taking Takashi in Yokohama was never the Akiudo's plan to start with," Leo said morosely. "He didn't just ask to be moved. He asked to be returned to _Okinawa_. There are still plenty of opportunities for the gang to act before he's safely behind prison walls again." Leonardo saw Greg's face fall, and instantly regretted speaking his mind.

"I'm sorry for being so negative, Heff, I'm just hard-wired to consider all of the possibilities."

"No, you're right," Greg said softly. "They're not in the clear just because they made it to the airport. I don't know why I expected an attack to come immediately. It does seem more likely that the gang would try to interfere closer to home. I'm fooling myself, Leo. There's no way this is going to end well."

"We can't know what's going to happen," Leo ventured. "There _is_ a chance that this special team can pull this off."

"Do you really believe that, Leo?"

The blue-masked turtle wanted to say that he did, but it would have been a lie. Everything he knew about the Akiudo told him that the gang would go to any length to meet their goal, no matter how many people had to be sacrificed in the process.

"Let's just wait and see what happens," Leonardo said uncertainly.

Greg shook his head. "I can't just sit here. I'm going to take another look at my charts."

Leonardo's brow furrowed. _He's already planning the flight to Okinawa. It sounds like we're on the same page. Both of us are thinking about going after Takashi, and he hasn't even escaped yet. And if he does escape, we're going to be so far behind him. Could this situation get any worse? That's what we're sitting around waiting for._

* * *

><p>Sayuri couldn't relax, not even on the plane ride back to Okinawa. The Asian woman found herself examining each member of the team closely, as if any of them could be a traitor in disguise. She wasn't discounting Hayashi either, if she was being honest with herself.<p>

The woman hated the familiar paranoia that preyed on her mind as she was forced to question every individual around her. She'd just finished staring down the man in front of her when she realized that Hayashi was looking at _her_. Sayuri met his dark eyes briefly, before averting her gaze to the window.

_"You must have a terrible history with that man," _Hayashi said quietly.

Sayuri shook her head. "_I would rather not discuss him_."

Hayashi nodded out of the corner of her eye. "_I don't mean to pry. This just feels like a personal mission to me, and then the way that he reacted to you…"_

_"You want the tale of our sordid past?" _she asked sharply. _"He is one of the most dangerous men that ever walked the planet. Do you know the full story behind the Akiudo?"_

_"I know that they were involved in the slave trade for several years."_

_"And they are _murderers_," _she said emphatically. "_The Akiudo are cold-blooded killers, who will crush anyone in their path. I was on a special task force that had been tracking the gang years ago. We got close to them, near enough to be caught up in one of their death traps. The Akiudo don't leave very much of a trail, and if they are discovered…they will destroy entire structures to cover up evidence. _

"_That is what happened in the course of our investigation. A bomb was detonated within a safe house we'd discovered. There were eight others on my team, and I am the _only_ one who survived."_

Hayashi grimaced apologetically. "_I am sorry. I know how closely knit a unit like that can be. It must have been like losing your entire family."_

"_They were closest thing to one that I had," _she replied.

"_But it didn't end there, did it?" _he asked. "_I have heard stories…"_

"_I was accused as a terrorist?" _Sayuri suggested with annoyance. _"Is that what you would like to ask me about?"_

"_I beg your forgiveness, Detective Kimura. I did some research on you myself before coming to Yokohama. It is all rather confusing."_

"_What didn't you understand?" _she demanded. _"I was set up for crimes that I didn't commit."_

"_Yes," _he said evenly. _"But why?"_

"_You would have to ask the people who framed me," _she said evasively. "_I was on the task force in Okinawa for many years, and helped bring many men to justice. There were a lot of people who had motive to attack my character."_

"_After I read further into your history, I remembered hearing about the terrorist accusations in the News. Such a thing is not often attributed to a woman. At the time, I confess I wondered why you didn't simply turn yourself in to the Police if you were innocent."_

"_Why don't you try walking in my shoes for a few days before you ask me any more questions?" _Sayuri asked heatedly and returned to staring out the window.

"_I apologize once more, Detective. I didn't mean to offend you."_

Sayuri spared him another short glance. _"If you knew where I have been, or how I have had to live, you would understand why I am so worked up over this one man."_

"_I do understand," _he countered.

"_No, you don't. You don't know their history, or the people who have been viciously killed by them. You have not seen the countless pages of young girls, who _still_ have not been recovered. All that I desire is to see justice served. I want Takashi to remain in Prison for the rest of his miserable life. But even now, I fear what he has in mind. He sits chained in the back of this plane, and I am tensing as I anticipate an assault. I cannot believe the Judge agreed to transfer him."_

"_I heard that the evidence in his case was compelling_."

"_Don't say that; don't _agree_ with him," _Sayuri said angrily. _"I pray that you don't have the opportunity to learn about Takashi's manipulation firsthand. He fooled that Judge and perhaps a few more people, but I know better."_

Hayashi's brow creased, and he looked like he didn't know what to say. "_I have heard that you carried out your own crusade against the Akiudo behind the scenes,"_ he said finally.

Sayuri's heart leapt into her throat. _"Who said that? Who told you that?"_

"_I talked to another Detective from Naha."_

"_It sounds like you performed a full-out investigation on me." _Sayuri glared at him openly.

"_I did not understand your eagerness to accompany the transport team_," he replied. "_I thought that _you_ could be involved in some sort of resistance_."

"_You thought I wanted to set him free_?" Sayuri couldn't believe her ears.

"_You suspect every man on board this plane of the same thing. I have watched you studying them, including me_."

"_I have been double-crossed before_," she answered. "_Once you have been betrayed, the possibility of a reoccurrence will always exist in the back of your mind_."

"_Do you want to know what I think?"_

"_I am sure you are going to tell me." _Sayuri was exasperated with the man.

"_I think you know more about the Akiudo than you want to let on to anyone. The question is, why?"_

Sayuri's didn't blink, although she felt a tremor run down her spine. "_Stories are stories, Sergeant. I know the Akiudo because I studied them; my entire task force did. We were thorough in our research. We thought we knew what to expect from them, and we were wrong. The Akiudo will throw you for a loop, and attack you when you are not looking for them._

"_There is a reason that this transport to Okinawa makes me nervous, and their callous attitude toward taking human lives is it. You will probably never meet another man who is so willing to destroy someone else to further his agenda. If that is not frightening, I don't know what is."_


	41. Okinawa

Sayuri was surprised that she hadn't experienced a heart attack by the time the team arrived on the outskirts of downtown Okinawa. The vehicle that had picked them up from the airport had the same type of tinted windows as those the SUV had possessed, so that she couldn't see what was transpiring on the streets. The length of time it took to make the trip didn't give her a moment to relax, as they had to spend several minutes at a stand-still in traffic.

Hayashi gave her a sympathetic look as his eyes fell on her clenched fists. "_The authorities said that the turnout downtown is impeding traffic, but we are going to get there, Detective. Remember, no one will be expecting us to arrive with Matsuo this early_."

Sayuri couldn't bring herself to nod.

"_Why did you insist on coming along on this venture_?" he asked. "_It does not appear to be doing you any good. We have the situation under control, Detective. There are very few sources even inside the Police department who have knowledge of our movement_."

She looked at him squarely. "_You don't understand Takashi's motivation," _she said bluntly, but kept her voice low. "_This is not about racism or unfair prison conditions. His people will come for him; mark my words, Sergeant."_

_"This will be over soon, and he will be secure."_

_"Believe what you like, but keep your gun in reach," _she returned.

Sayuri glanced over her shoulder and saw Takashi in the second row of seats behind her. The Asian man caught her eye and started to give her another smile, before she could turn away.

_I am _not_ being paranoid. I'm not. There is no mistaking this; he is too smug. I cannot stand the ignorance surrounding this man's case! _Anger pulsed in the back of her mind, but it couldn't compete with the fear that was still building as the van crawled along at a snail's pace.

Sayuri eventually began to pick up voices resounding from outside the vehicle. She wished that she could see out the windows to assure herself that they were only civilians, but there was no way to be certain from her position. She felt Hayashi shift on the seat next to her, and the man suddenly withdrew his phone to read something from the screen.

"_The driver has to change directions_," he told Sayuri. "_The mess only becomes greater as we get closer to your Prefectural Police Headquarters."_

_"And this doesn't seem like a set-up to you?" _she demanded softly.

_"These are no friends of Takashi," _he countered. _"The picketers are growing increasingly agitated. They should not realize that we have him in our custody, but we don't need to get cornered by them either. A small change in route should get us there more quickly."_

Sayuri wasn't known for sarcasm, but she was very tempted to tell the man how she _really_ felt about his plan. The Sergeant was technically her superior and therefore worthy of respect, but she believed even less now that he was aware of the true risk involved in shuttling Takashi.

She was tempted to message Greg again to update him on their current location, but Sayuri decided to hold off until they'd reached the familiar U-shaped building. _If we get there at all, _she thought anxiously. _This was not the right time for the civilians to come out in force. I know that there must be victims among them, as well as parents who never received their daughters back, but we don't need reasons to take a detour. It seems that if the Akiudo were watching, they would try to take full advantage of this situation._

Time was frozen as the van continued moving slowly. Sayuri wanted nothing more than to hurry up and finish this task, so she would be able to breathe again. The slow speed at which they were moving made it difficult to determine how close they might be to her Headquarters. She brushed the back of her hand against her forehead, and wasn't surprised to find that she was sweating. Sayuri felt Hayashi's gaze once more, and realized that he still had his phone in hand.

"_They are congregating around the Station_," he mentioned. "_There is enough unrest being displayed that the Police have dispatched riot forces, Detective Kimura. Have no fear. Matsuo will not be liberated by his old cronies, or taken by an angry mob. We are moving into position to bring him in secretly, and security inside the building has multiplied. That must make you feel a little better."_

_I wish I could say that it did, _she thought inwardly. "_We shall see_," she answered vaguely, never releasing the fists that were clenched at her sides.

Sayuri stiffened when the van came to a complete stop, half expecting an attack to occur at any moment. Someone tapped a pattern against the outside door, and she sat rigidly while Hayashi moved to unlock it.

"_We arranged the signal in advance_," he explained to Sayuri. "_A random person would not know the correct combination. Relax, Detective, we are here, back at your own Police Headquarters. I told you I would get you here, did I not_?"

His smile was a little too cocky for her liking, but Sayuri _did _exhale at the sight of the building. The unmarked van had pulled up behind the structure, the furthest point away from the demonstrating. She stayed in her seat until the Officers had already helped Takashi out of the van, and heard Hayashi speak to him.

"_Hundreds of people turned out for your welcome home party, Matsuo, would you care to greet them_?"

"_Of what concern are those fools to me_?" Takashi scoffed.

Hayashi shook his head. "_I don't believe you would say that if we were to leave you alone with them, but we have a job to complete_."

"_Yes, carry on, Sergeant, by all means. You must finish your important mission_," Takashi returned.

As Sayuri climbed out of the van, her legs felt stiff from being in the same locked position for so long. She immediately looked in every direction. The woman could hear demonstrators, though she couldn't see them from where she was. Black uniformed riot police had formed a semi-circle around the building, and were unmoved from their positions.

As she walked at the end of the team, Sayuri kept scanning their surroundings. She noticed a couple of the helmeted riot police coming toward them before the others did, and tensed until one of them removed his visor.

"_We have received a number of threats of violence. They have locked down the building to restrict access without proper clearance_," the officer told her.

Hayashi looked back at Sayuri as she was already nodding.

"_I have the codes_," she told them. "_We will not require your assistance_. _Are you expecting a full scale riot_?"

"_Our orders were to let nothing cross the perimeter of the building. What may happen with the crowds is yet to be seen_."

"_Maybe bringing him here was not wise_." Hayashi sounded uncertain for the first time.

But now that they had arrived, Sayuri was not about to concede to fighting their way through slow-moving traffic again. "_You said yourself that the people don't know he's here yet_," she pointed out. "_Since we are already here, we are probably better off riding this out_." Sayuri didn't tell Hayashi that her beleaguered mind couldn't handle the possibility of being waylaid inside a vehicle for much longer.

The woman walked to the head of the group to get the door open with her card, and led everyone else through the first hallway on the ground floor.

Hayashi came to her side. "_Let's get him into a holding area, and then we can find out how long the transfer to the next prison is going to take_."

"_Are you staying onboard for that part_?" she asked.

He grinned. "_You are stuck with me until Matsuo is safely behind prison bars again, Detective_."

Sayuri offered him her first smile of the day. "_I apologize if I have seemed extraordinarily paranoid. If you knew what I have been through with this gang, you would not consider it an overreaction_."

Hayashi shook his head. "_That is not how I am thinking of you, Detective. But my understanding of the Akiudo is that many of them are locked up, or scattered to the wind. Do you have some reason to suspect differently_?"

_As a matter of fact, I do, not that I can explain it to you, _she thought ruefully. _"I have heard things about them, rumors of organization taking place in their ranks," _she said after a couple of seconds. "_But I know nothing for certain," _she qualified.

Sayuri continued leading since they were within her own Headquarters, taking the group to an elevator to reach the appropriate floor they needed for a holding area. The Station appeared to be fully staffed, but business had temporarily ceased in the face of the conditions outside. She could sense the nerves in the air like electricity.

_I would feel better if this was already over. I should really communicate with Greg-chan about our progress. Once we have Takashi stowed away, I will make a point to do that._

* * *

><p>Sayuri sent a detailed text message to Greg as she was sitting with the rest of the transport team in uncomfortable plastic chairs, waiting for their next orders. There was food at least; a fact for which the woman was grateful. She hadn't eaten all day because of the stress involved in moving Takashi.<p>

The atmosphere of the building had not improved in the span of time during which they'd been standing by. If anything, anxiety seemed to be running higher. _How dangerous could these demonstrators be? Surely there cannot be as many of them as to pose a large threat to—_

The sight of a figure running was enough to break Sayuri out of thought, and she got up to see where the man was going. He was wearing the same gear as the riot forces stationed outside, though he'd temporarily removed his helmet.

"_We have had a breach on the lower level; they are breaking out windows_!" the man exclaimed.

Sayuri didn't wait to hear the rest, whirling around to face Hayashi.

"_Perhaps we should move to higher ground, to assure Matsuo's security_," he suggested.

"_You are beginning to sound like me_," she replied. "_There is another holding block three floors above us. We could take him there_."

Hayashi nodded curtly, and the team sprang back into motion as if they'd worked together for years. Takashi actually laughed when they walked in to retrieve him.

"_You cannot make up your mind where I belong, Sergeant, Kimura_?"

"_I know _exactly_ where you belong, Takashi, but I am forbidden by law from sending you there!_" Sayuri seethed.

Hayashi nudged her toward the door, away from the prisoner. "_Lead the way, Detective, and pay this criminal no heed!_"

Sayuri took the small processional back through the hallway, moving swiftly for the closest elevator. As they approached, two men in riot police attire came around the opposite corner, and jumped onto the elevator car behind them.

"_Someone hit the button for the seventh floor_!" Sayuri called.

One of the officers that had just joined them had his phone in one hand, and pressed a button with the other.

The car began moving after a pause, but to her consternation, it was traveling in the _wrong_ direction.

"_No, we need to get higher_!" she called over the heads of her own team.

"_We will remedy the situation momentarily_," one of the men returned.

Sayuri watched as the elevator traveled down two more floors before it came to a stop. She couldn't see what was happening by the control panel, so she was shocked when the doors opened onto the second floor. She opened her mouth to speak, right before the lights were suddenly cut off.

Sayuri craned her neck in irritation to see around the men that were surrounding her. In the faint glow of overhead emergency lights, she suddenly noticed that there were dark figures waiting on the other side of the elevator doors. The next thing she realized was that they each had weapons already trained on her group.


	42. Break Out

***This was a rather unique experience for me. I've shown an escape through the eyes of the enemy before, but this time was a little more...extreme.**

* * *

><p>Yukiko raised the visor of her helmet, and fixed the elevator full of people with a stoic look. She beckoned for the two "riot police" to come out of the car to give her room to address the others properly.<p>

_"No one moves," _she commanded flatly. "_I want you to put your weapons down, one by one_."

When none of the officers immediately listened to her, she jammed the barrel of her assault rifle into the ribcage of the man closest to her. "_Do not test me. Lay your weapons _down."

The man upon whom her gun was braced was the first to respond, slowly lowering his hand-gun to the floor.

"_Kick it out into the hall_," she ordered.

Yukiko systematically collected guns with the help of another warrior, until she finally settled on Sayuri in the back of the elevator. The other woman was glaring at her with clenched jaw, indicating no willingness to release her firearm.

Yukiko laughed scornfully. "_Don't be a fool, Kimura. Even if you were capable of shooting me before I killed you, there are too many guns behind me for you to succeed. Now put it down, before you get someone else killed_."

Sayuri's scowl deepened as she surrendered the gun angrily, but Yukiko turned away from her, unconcerned. She focused on her Master instead, bowing her head in deference.

"_Greetings, Takashi-sama. It is _good _to see you_."

"_Not as good as it is to see _you," he emphasized. "_You have done well, Yukiko-san_."

The pleasure in his voice was greater than she could ever remember hearing, and a trace of a smile lit as Takashi stepped out from among the officers.

Once the Asian man made it into the hallway, he turned around to face the car and beckoned with one finger. "_Won't you join us, Kimura_?"

Yukiko could barely see the other women behind the officers crowded in the elevator, but she wasted no time in selecting a hostage, should it be necessary to acquire cooperation. She pressed the barrel of her rifle into the chest of another man up front, as she searched for Sayuri again. "_Off the elevator, Kimura, _now!"

The Detective forced a hole through the surrounding men, and Takashi reached to take her by the arm.

"_You are _predictable_ if nothing else, Kimura_," he said. "_I knew that threatening you would only result in you coming directly to me. You will never learn to do things the easy way. Speaking of which, Yukiko-san, feel free to finish your own business with these men_."

Takashi stepped out of the way with a hand on the back of Sayuri's neck, and Yukiko took a moment to line up with two other warriors whose guns were still trained on the elevator. With a nod from her, they unloaded their rifles on the remaining men inside the car. When two others had verified that the officers were dead, they hurried to close the doors of the elevator manually.

"_I trust you planted the device_?" she addressed one of original warriors who'd ridden the elevator down.

"_Yes, Yukiko-san. It will detonate the elevator on your trigger_."

"_Well done_," she told him.

When Yukiko turned around, she was grateful to see Takashi being outfitted in the same riot police gear that the rest of them were using, but she couldn't help wondering what he intended to do with Kimura. The woman was clutched between two men at the moment, although Yukiko suspected one would have been enough to contain her. The deeply set anger in Sayuri's face had been replaced with shock, no doubt over the sudden killings of the other men.

_It is so strange to see, _Yukiko thought coldly. _One would think she would be used to it after all this time._

"_Do you have something to use on Kimura_?" Takashi asked her suddenly.

"_Is she making the whole trip with us_?"

"_She took it upon herself to accompany me from Yokohama, so yes, I think she is fit for the journey."_

Yukiko was _never_ unprepared. She reached inside her black jacket to find the color-coded needles, and selected one. "_I have just the thing_."

"_Make it fast, Yukiko-san! We need to vacate this section before the suspicion that could have been aroused by those gunshots catches up with us_."

Yukiko saw the woman stiffen, but it wasn't going to do Sayuri any good. She smoothly injected her with experienced precision, and didn't even wait to see who took charge of the Detective.

"_How long will she be unconscious_?" Takashi asked.

"_We have plenty of time. I used the extended release, so it will probably be a good five hours before she comes around again_."

"_Good. Is the decoy prepared outside_?"

"_As planned, Takashi-sama, and the evidence is planted inside his home. How did you like my angry mob_?" she asked proudly.

He smiled grimly. "_A well-laid plan this was. Did they prove difficult to incite_?"

"_The people are sheep, Takashi-sama. If you know how to lead them, they will follow. Those angry fools outside are the key that laid the stage for this entire operation_." Yukiko smiled to herself. _The irony is quite amusing_, she told herself.

Takashi nodded before pulling down the visor on his helmet. "_Then let's vacate this hell-hole and take ourselves somewhere more civilized. Where do we stand on ID?"_

"_It is ready for you, Takashi-sama. We are assured that it will pass the test at Customs."_

"_Then all that is left is to tie everything up neatly." _Takashi kept stride along with her as Yukiko started toward the stairwell, and they began rapidly descending to the ground floor. _"I could not be positive that Kimura would come, but I was thrilled to see that she didn't disappoint me. I am going to enjoy catching up with her."_

Yukiko's smile was hidden behind her visor. _I am going to enjoy catching up with the Shitenno more._

"_Still no word from Daichi?" _Takashi asked.

"_Not in weeks. I don't know what the fool has done with himself, but I am starting to doubt that we will hear from him again. He was being careless in the United States as I understand it, but he was also causing too much strife and contention to remain at my side in Okinawa. I gave him the opportunity to do something useful, Takashi-sama, and he only proved how unprepared for leadership he truly is."_

Takashi shook his head. _"He always wanted to do more than he was mentally capable of. I don't know how you put up with his dissension for as long as you did, Yukiko-san. I told you to simply get rid of him."_

The woman shrugged. "_He served you well for many years. I gave him one last chance, and I don't know what he did with it, nor do I now care. The helm is yours, Takashi-sama. I gladly cede it to you." _From her jacket she produced a small remote with three buttons. "_I have the trigger for you, if you would like to do the honors outside."_

"_I would like that. The sooner the better, before anyone has a chance to discover the bodies."_

Yukiko looked back to see the warrior carrying Sayuri. "_Do you have a plan involving Kimura?"_

"_The possibilities are endless, Yukiko-san. We can focus more on specifics later; right now I prefer to escape with our cover still intact."_

"_We will exit through the back," _she offered. "_We can finish with the decoy and set up the trigger. Then we will be free from this mess_."

Yukiko tried to allow Takashi to lead them out of the stairwell on the ground floor, but he fell back slightly.

"_I prefer to remain in the middle of the group_," he said. "_The officers should not be able to recognize me behind the visor, but being up front could garner more attention than I want_."

"_Agreed_." Yukiko did not speak his name allowed since they were within the range of being heard by other people.

Their custom assault rifles were holstered again, camouflaged so they would appear to be nothing more than the standard equipment that the riot police normally carried. Yukiko's heart beat a little faster as they made their way through onlookers and officers, none of whom were wise to their true identity.

_Just keep moving. Keep moving. You belong here. No one has a reason to stop you. No one knows what you are doing. _Yukiko carried herself confidently without displaying a hint of the threatening nerves. _We are going to do it. Months of planning and preparation, watching and manipulating has led to this moment. Everything has gone according to plan, and we even have Kimura as an added bonus._

She picked up more speed as the back door came into sight. Their hurry wouldn't appear unusual in the current atmosphere. When Yukiko pushed through the back door however, she was immediately by a sight she _hadn't _prepared for: paramedics. Yukiko counted at least three ambulances, and a smirk returned under her visor.

_They are going to need them._

She motioned for the six men to follow her past the last obstacle, but the warrior bringing up the rear was hung up the instant he exited the building with Kimura. Yukiko looked over her shoulder to see the paramedics converging on him, and she cursed under her breath. _You fools, just let him pass!_

"_We will see that she receives attention," _Takashi addressed the paramedics himself.

"_You have enough to do_!" one of them responded. "_Do your job, and let us do ours_!"

Yukiko expected Takashi to object, but the man did the opposite.

"_Release her to them_," Takashi ordered the warrior. "_We have to keep going_!"

Yukiko eyed the warrior as he somewhat unwillingly allowed paramedics to take Kimura. Then she motioned for the group to start moving again. Takashi strode to the front to join her, but neither of them said a word until they were roughly a quarter of a mile away from the Prefectural Police Headquarters.

"_It had to be done_," he said soberly. "_We could not risk killing them in the open and drawing attention to ourselves. Kimura's time will come. We have accomplished more than enough for one day_. _Is that the vehicle_?" Takashi motioned to the minivan across the silent side street.

"_Yes, Takashi-sama_." Yukiko heard the doors unlock as she approached, and she peered inside to see their man, who was sitting beside the cringing captive who was serving as their distraction.

The warrior nodded in deference to both of them, and stepped out of the way.

"_Where is the note_?" Takashi asked. "_We need to make explanation for Kimura, if there is space. Then we can trigger the elevator, and allow this man to serve his purpose_."

Yukiko eyed the civilian stonily as she climbed inside of the evidence-ridden vehicle, and retrieved a notebook. "_There is plenty of room, Takashi-sama. Just tell me what to say_."

The man barely took any time to think about it before giving her a couple of points to hit, and she smiled as she scrawled the addendum to the note, concentrating on the hand-writing sample she'd memorized to mimic their decoy's penmanship. Yukiko let Takashi read over the pages before she closed the notebook.

"_Excellent. Now to send myself down in flames." _Takashi chuckled, withdrawing the remote. He keyed in the correct combination between the three buttons to set off the explosives that would provide enough power to destroy the elevator, and the bodies that had been left behind.

Yukiko took the detonator back from him, and studied it to make certain there were no fingerprints, despite the gloves they were using. She left the trigger alongside other random personal effects inside the darkened interior of the van. Then she reached for the hand-gun that was registered in the name of the civilian they were using, and nodded at him.

"_It is a far better thing you do for your country by dying, than your worthless life could ever have attained_," she told him.

The gagged man shook his head at her, as though he could somehow talk her out of the plan that was already going forward. Yukiko was many things, but never a teaser. Without another word, she unloaded a single shot from close range into the side of their captive's head, and planted the gun back in his hand.

"_Quickly!" _Takashi urged her.

Yukiko was glad to see that the rest of the team was already out of sight, and only her superior waiting for her outside. She had a few seconds to gaze at the flames leaping up from part of the Prefectural Police Headquarters, before she heard a car approaching.

Takashi gestured to her as the door opened, and she climbed into the SUV first. Silence reined inside the vehicle for several minutes while they crept around the madness of downtown Naha.

Only when they'd left the city limits did Takashi raise his visor again. "_You have all done exceedingly well. I am pleased, and you will be rewarded. I cannot tell you how good it feels to be away from those cursed walls, and wretched men. I have longed for this day as if it would never come. So now that I am dead, we are once more free to pursue the real matter at hand. I am looking forward to working with all of you again."_


	43. Credibility

Sayuri heard a sound in the back of her mind, a single word that was being repeated so often that it was becoming irritating. Presently she came to realize that the voice was not _in_ her head, but outside of it.

"_Sayuri-san. Open your eyes."_

The Asian woman dutifully obeyed, and was shocked to find herself lying in a hospital bed. She started to bolt upright, but she was stilled by the weakness of her limbs. Sayuri groaned softly before becoming aware of the woman that was standing over her.

"_Careful, Detective, now take it easy_."

"_What_?" was the only word she was capable of uttering immediately.

"_I said you need to take it easy. You don't appear to be injured, but the foreign substance in your blood stream has yet to be identified_."

_Foreign substance_, Sayuri thought with confusion. _What on earth is she talking about? How did I get_—in a flash, she remembered the injection, but more importantly, she recalled what had preceded it.

Sayuri grabbed the railing of the bed and hoisted herself up as far as she could while she gasped for the breath that suddenly heaved in her chest. "_Takashi! Where are the Police? Where is my phone_?" she demanded of the started nurse.

"_All of that can wait_—"

"_No, it _can't!" Sayuri insisted loudly. "_You don't understand! They have him; they came just like I knew they would!"_

"_Detective Kimura—"_

"_But why did they release me? Why let me go?" _Sayuri asked herself more quietly. "_What purpose was there in letting me live, especially after they killed everyone else_?"

"_Detective Kimura_," the nurse said more strongly. "_You need to hold on_. _This has to wait for a little while_."

"_You don't understand_!" Sayuri repeated. "_Takashi is gone, he is _gone!_ The Akiudo came and they killed the others! I must speak with the Police and I need my phone! Where is my phone_?"

"_Please be still, Detective. There is time to_—"

A knock at the door cut off whatever the woman had been about to say. The annoyed nurse crossed over to the door and exchanged a couple of terse words with someone on the other side. A deeper voice seemed to be disagreeing with her, and the woman stepped angrily aside.

Sayuri tightened her grip on the railing as a man in a suit entered the hospital room. She studied his face, but was sure she'd never seen him before.

"_Detective Kimura_," the man stated, as if she wasn't aware of her own name.

"_Yes! Are you with the Police_?"

"_I am Agent Ichiro-Kazuo, with the __Tokushu Sakusen Gun_."

"_I am glad you are here, Agent_," she told him. "_The worst has happened, as I feared_."

The man gave her a sympathetic gaze. "_I understand that you memories might not be clear, but if you can remember anything that might be helpful to us, I would like to hear it now_."

"_We were moving Takashi_," she said mechanically. "_Our thought was to take him higher, where the chance of others catching up to us would be lessened. But as we were leaving our floor, two riot police joined the back of our entourage. I say 'riot police' because they were dressed accordingly, but in actuality they were traitors. I told someone to select the floor we needed, but they intentionally drove us down instead. When the doors opened again, there were weapons waiting for us."_

The Agent nodded for her to continue.

"_I had a strong feeling that the Akiudo would come for Takashi; I knew this transfer was only a ploy for him to create an opportunity to escape!"_

"_He did not escape, Detective Kimura, not from what we can determine. The individuals didn't come to free him, but to kill him, and anyone who stood in their way," _the man replied.

Sayuri's mouth opened in astonishment, but then shut. "_No_," she said forcefully. "_No, they were Akiudo. I _know_ they were! I saw Takashi's right hand! They forced me to get off the elevator along with him_."

"_You may not be remembering everything clearly_," Ichiro said patiently. "_Oftentimes when the mind faces repeated trauma, certain events can feel real, even when they aren't_."

"_This wasn't in my mind! Do you have Takashi or not_?"

"_It is our understanding that no one made it off the elevator except for you_," he supplied.

"_They forced me off; I already told you that much! I don't know why they let me go, but I can tell you_—"

Ichiro held up a hand to stop her. "_Please, allow me to give you some information before we go any further. There are witnesses who reported hearing gunshots, but we cannot verify how Takashi or any of the transport team may have been killed. The elevator that they were inside of was rigged with an explosive, which appears to have been detonated by remote_.

"_We received a tip shortly after the explosion that led us to a vehicle about a quarter of a mile away from your Headquarters. It was equipped with enough materials to bring down the entire station if the bomber had wished to. We found compelling evidence inside the van, in addition to the home of the vehicle's registered owner._

"_Receipts, phone records and computers are all being analyzed as I speak. There was a dead man inside the van, who appears to have committed suicide. We are only in the beginning stages of the investigation, but we found a notebook which outlines what appears to be detailed plot concerning an assassination attempt on Matsuo-Takashi._

"_The bomber's original plan involved taking out the entire Police Station, but he couldn't bring himself to go through with it. He also couldn't bring himself to kill _you_."_

"_What? He mentioned _me_?"_

"_He knew _of _you, Detective Kimura, and your early crusade against the Akiudo. He chose to spare you."_

"No_," _she said emphatically. _"No, that's not right! These were not protesters. I was there, Agent, I know what their intentions were! I am telling you, the Akiudo came to retrieve Takashi, and it sounds like they got away with it!"_

"_We are still investigating these events, and searching for other individuals who were involved," _he said gently, as one would speak to a small child.

"_NO!_" Sayuri's fist struck the mattress to signify her point. "_This is a set-up, don't you see it? They did the same thing to me; they are masters of manipulation! Didn't it all seem to fall into place too easily? When has all of the evidence ever appeared in such a manner_?"

"_When you are dealing with a despondent individual who cares nothing for his own life, but only for revenge, things can be this obvious, Detective. I have seen it before. We are taking all things into account. Is that everything that you can remember_?"

"_You don't believe me_," Sayuri said bitterly. "_The most dangerous man you will ever encounter is _free_, running the streets of our beloved Naha, and you don't believe me!"_

"_I believe that your past experience with the Akiudo is catching up with you, Detective. You were drugged. Under those circumstances, it is not unusual for one to see things other than the way they actually happened."_

"_I am not crazy! Takashi is out there! He planned this for months!"_

"_Forgive me for disturbing you so soon, Detective. It is clear that you need to rest."_

"_I don't need to rest; _you_ need to dig back into the evidence and see the truth in front of your faces! The camera feed would show…"_ Sayuri slowly trailed off. _The power went out, _she recalled inwardly. _That was probably their doing too. The feed would not have picked up anything that happened after the elevator was stopped!_

"_We examined the digital camera feed, but it was cut short when the building lost electricity," _the Agent confirmed unnecessarily. _"I apologize for bothering you so late, when you have already been through this ordeal today. I am going to leave my card with you, and if there is anything you need—"_

"_My phone! I need my phone," _she said through clenched teeth.

"_I will help track it down." _

Sayuri shook her head in frustration and rage at the man's retreating form. _I cannot believe it! After all of that, not only did Takashi escape, but he found a way to set someone else up for his supposed murder! The police are not even _looking_ for him! He could not have played this smarter. I was such a fool. Of course he contacted me – Takashi wanted me front and center so he could do as he pleased with me! But why did they let me go?_

Sayuri sank back to her mattress with tears in her eyes. _Why can't it be a bad dream? Can I go to sleep and wake up to a different reality? I must speak with Hisui and Shunshi. I have to make sure they are all right! Then I must call the States, and let everyone know that I failed._

Another knock at the door made her try to sit up, but she couldn't manage it this time. The same nurse as before appeared with an apologetic look. "_I am sorry about that Agent, Detective. I didn't want to let him in._"

Sayuri couldn't think of an appropriate response. She was so discouraged that she merely buried her head in her pillow.

"_We know where your phone is, and it's being retrieved," _the nurse said helpfully. "_There is someone else who would like to see you, but I already told him that it would likely have to wait_."

Sayuri cocked her head. "_Who is here_?"

"_One of the paramedics who brought you in; just a nice young man who is checking up on you._"

Sayuri raised her head curiously. _"Let him in_."

"_Detective, when are you going to rest_?"

"_When Takashi is in prison or dead_!" she replied honestly.

It was obvious that the nurse didn't know what to say to that, but she did stick her head out into the hall and call someone's name. "_Naoki, she will see you now_."

The Asian woman turned on her side and waited to see the man who would enter. He _was_ young; probably no more than his early twenties.

"_Good evening, Detective_," he said shyly. "_Pardon my intrusion_."

"_No, you are not intruding_," she said quickly. "_I need to know how I got here. Where did you find me_?"

"_The riot police had you_," he answered. "_We were waiting outside when they exited the building. They said that they could handle you themselves, but we thought it was important for them to return to the front line_."

She gasped softly. "_You took me from them_?"

"_Took you? We only volunteered to perform our normal duties, Detective_."

"_You saved my life_."

The young man shook his head. "_We found out that you were never in mortal danger. But at the time, your life signs were vague, and you were so far under that we had great reason for concern."_

"_You may never be able to understand this, but you saved my life," _she insisted. "_Thank you_."

Naoki rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. "_We only did our job_," he repeated.

"_You did more than that tonight. You took me straight from the hands of some very bad people, who would have certainly killed me. Always keep your eyes open, Naoki_."

He shuffled from one foot to the other. "_Are you feeling better_?"

"_I am glad to be alive, but I don't feel better, no. A great evil has been unleashed once more, and no one wants to believe it. They won't believe me, and Takashi _knew_ that they wouldn't_," she realized suddenly. "_It is little wonder that he was willing to let me go. My past is tarnished, and my sanity is subject to doubt. _Of course_ no one believes me_!"

"_Is there something else I can do for you_?" Naoki asked in confusion.

"_You can pray with all of your might that Takashi is found, before he has a chance to accomplish whatever he has set out to do_."


	44. Stateside

***If you aren't familiar with "towel ninjas"...well, this doesn't make any sense. ) You can find it on youtube: just look up Dairy Queen dueling. I don't own any, unfortunately, or Dairy Queen.**

* * *

><p>Raphael had watched Greg slowly unravel as the man waited to hear from Sayuri again. He'd even offered to work off some steam with him in the dojo, but the man clearly wasn't in the mood.<p>

Raphael had taken to secretly studying Brandon as a distraction from Greg's harried pacing. The TV was on in the background, and his friend seemed to be staring right through it from his perch on the couch. The bronze-haired man's posture was less rigid than Raphael had become accustomed to, even if he _was_ still clutching his right arm to his chest, as if he feared someone would reinjure it.

Brandon resembled little more than a shadow of his former self at first glance, but there had been small indications of life on his part that were slightly encouraging. Even as Raphael watched the man, he was surprised to see the faintest hint of a smirk appear on Brandon's face.

"Heh, towel ninjas," the man murmured, glancing at Raphael. "That's what you guys need."

"Lemme just send somebody up to Dairy Queen to rustle up a couple of them," Raphael returned, surprised to realize that Brandon had been paying attention to the commercial.

"You know, for all those times when you'll be dueling with your future self," Brandon added.

"Exactly. 'Course I don't plan on getting my shell kicked by him." The turtle grinned.

"You don't think your future self could take you?"

"Maybe, but it'd be the battle of the century."

"Yeah, well…maybe _my_ future self will be able to wipe the floor with you," Brandon suggested.

Raphael cocked his head as he chuckled. _Okay, I'll take it, _he thought gratefully. "That's a challenge, Bran. You find a way to get him here, and I _guarantee_ a spar on the spot to settle this."

"As long as we each get our own towel ninjas."

"Oh, you're gonna need more of them than I will, Man."

"Sure, to clean up after I beat you."

The red-masked turtle shook his head, repressing the urge to clap his friend on the back. "Are you getting hungry at all?"

Brandon shook his head. "No, but Kari's gonna force it down my throat anyway. Should I waste the energy fighting it?"

Raphael shot him another smile. "You know your sister; she'll eventually get her way. She always does."

Brandon turned to look over his shoulder. "I don't see Greg. Did he disappear on us completely?"

Raphael looked around, and didn't see the sandy-haired man either. "I'll go hunting for him. You just hang out here in case the searching takes longer than the finding."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Brandon called after him.

_It doesn't need to, as long as you keep sounding a little like your old self, _Raphael thought in return. He looked down the hall, and made a bee-line for the Lounge when he noticed that the door was ajar. The turtle arrived in time to hear Greg swearing, followed by the sound of a terrific crash.

Raphael flew into the room to find the man standing over the coffee table that was lying on its side, breathing rapidly as if he'd been sprinting. "Whoa, _easy_, Heff," he said cautiously. "If you need to attack something, you're in the wrong room to do it."

The man flopped down on the couch as Leo stuck his head inside the room.

"Is everything okay in here?" Leonardo asked.

"No, no, it's not," Greg replied with a huff. "You're not going to believe this!"

"Things became a lot easier to accept when you're a mutant turtle, Heff," Raphael told him.

"This isn't a joke!" Greg thundered. "The bastard pulled it off! Not only did the Akiudo manage to break Takashi out, but they made it look like he's _dead_, and some vigilante citizen was responsible for it!"

Raphael could only stare at Greg for a couple of seconds after the bombshell. "Wait…_what_?

"They pulled off something huge," the man said more quietly. "They went the whole nine yards to set up this 'event', and frame someone else for taking Takashi down, all _inside_ the Prefectural Police Headquarters in Naha!"

"How can they make Takashi _look_ like he's dead?" Leo demanded. "Don't they need a body for that?"

Greg shook his head. "The police are still investigating, but they're running under the assumption that the complete set-up they discovered is responsible for blowing up an elevator that Takashi was inside of."

"Then Takashi _is_ dead?" Raphael asked hopefully.

"_No_, you don't get it!" Greg looked like he was about to go through the ceiling. "Sayuri was there! She saw what actually happened. The Akiudo came into the Station disguised as riot police, cornered their transport team in the elevator, and cut the power to the building before pulling guns on them! They took Takashi, made Sayuri come with them, and killed everyone else on board!"

"_Hold it_, they have Sayuri?" Leonardo's voice changed entirely.

"No," Greg said more calmly. "That's the one good thing to come out of this. She was rescued by some paramedics who demanded that the 'riot police' hand her over to them."

"What?" Now Leonardo sounded completely confused too.

"Let me start over from the beginning, and I'll get it all out."

* * *

><p>Silence persisted in the living area for a good three minutes before anyone could bring themselves to speak. Raphael stared at the rug angrily, as frustration pulsed through every nerve in his body. He'd always preferred using his fists or his beloved sai when dealing with an enemy in the past, but now he <em>wished<em> he had access to a weapon of mass destruction.

Every swear word that he'd ever heard had already come to mind, and it was all he could do not to utter them out loud in front of the women. _I'd give anything to take those suckers out, even if I had to go down with them, _he seethed. _I think it'd be worth it._

"So, what _is_ Sayuri's next move?" Leonardo's question sounded logical, but once glance at him told Raphael that his older brother was barely keeping a lid on his anger.

"She left the hospital and she's on her way to pick up Hisui and Shunshi," Greg answered.

"But where will she go?" Mike pressed. "_None_ of them are safe with the Akiudo out there!"

"I don't think Takashi is all that concerned with Sayuri," Greg said honestly. "She believes that he only incited her over the phone to tempt her to join the transport team, where he could get another crack at her. But Sayuri isn't the reason that he wanted to break out of Prison. She has a feeling that he's got bigger fish to fry, and that finding you guys is probably at the top of the list." Greg grimaced with the admission.

"Let 'im come," Raphael said darkly. "Let them _all_ come. We kicked their tails before, and we'll do it again! If we don't have to commute, so much the better."

The blue-masked turtle shook his head. "I have a bad feeling about this. There's something _else_ going on here. He told Sayuri that he has no interest in slaves over the phone. If that's really the case, then what is he up to? What's his next move?"

"It sounds like _you're_ his next move," Brandon said bluntly. "Daichi came here for a reason. We know that Takashi wants to return to the United States. What else do we need to hear?"

"You don't honestly think he went through all of this just to get to us, do you?" Leonardo asked. "He has to have another angle here, some other purpose in his mind." The oldest turtle's brow furrowed in contemplation. "I used to believe that he was driven mainly by money. The slave trade certainly provided him with ample funds, but I don't think it was the sum of his existence.

"He tried talking to me when I was his captive, and it sounded like he was a lot more obsessed with _power_ than he is money. I believe that the 'business' was nothing but a means to an end; a by-product to obtain the funds he needed for his ventures."

"That might have been the case, Leo, but we took the Akiudo apart! They don't _have_ a source for funds anymore!" Raphael pointed out.

"Raph, the Police have no idea how much money Takashi had, or where it was stashed," Greg said. "If he had contact with the outside, then he could have easily given them instructions concerning the money that was set aside for whatever their true purpose is."

Raphael growled in annoyance. "You guys are talking about them having some other purpose, like we're supposed to care about what it is. I say it doesn't matter. He's coming to the US anyhow, and we're gonna take him down, end of story."

"But how does he intend to find _you_?" Karina spoke up suddenly.

The question created a sinking feeling in the red-masked turtle's gut.

"He might try to use one of you, the same way that Daichi took Bran," Raphael fumed, one hand gripping the pommel of a sai. "What are we gonna do, Fearless?"

Leonardo looked uncertain. "I don't know. Everyone could come underground as far as I'm concerned, but something tells me they won't go along with it. Not only do people have to _work_, but we can't entirely avoid the surface forever!"

"Then what are we supposed to _do_, Leo?" Raphael repeated louder.

"I just said I don't _know_," Leonardo said through clenched teeth. "The first step is warning everyone else. After that…it's up to them what they want to do. We can't take everyone captive against their will."

_The shell we can't_, Raphael thought inwardly. _We're not gonna end up with another Brandon on our hands, not if I have anything to say about it._

"We have some advantage going into this, you realize," Calley said.

"What advantage?" Mike wanted to know.

"Daichi was the contact point with the Akiudo in Okinawa, wasn't he?" the blond woman said. "And he's dead. Their informant said that Daichi acted independently. So that means…"

"It means they don't know that _we _know that they're coming," Leonardo filled in. "That's a great point, Calley. We have to make good use of the information that we have. We know for certain that Takashi is on the loose, and Yukiko is alive. Sayuri seeing her removes any of the doubt left over her death, I'm sorry to say."

"Don't be _sorry_, Fearless. I'm gonna finish that chick properly this time," Raphael inserted.

"We ought to be grateful that Sayuri was saved, and didn't end up as their prisoner." Leonardo looked at Greg. "You never told me where she's going next."

"She's coming here, Leo, where else? I've never heard Sayuri sound like this. She's going out of her mind with the truth, and the cops don't believe her. Her sanity is subject to question because of her past trauma involving the gang," Greg said.

"That's bull," Raphael said. "I can't imagine how ticked she's gotta be with those dumb cops."

"They think they're doing their job, but none of them know the Akiudo like we do," Greg said helplessly.

"That's for sure," Mike murmured. "Not too many cops have been under their lock and key. If it wasn't for me, Takashi wouldn't even _care_ about the Shitenno so much. I never shoulda played along with him. It only made things worse!"

"You were trying to protect us," Jenna said softly. "And we appreciated it. I'm going to excuse myself to talk to Donny, if it's all the same to everyone else. He deserves to know what's going on too."

No one objected as the raven-haired woman rose to her feet.

Rebecca patted a sleeping Nate on the shell as she wrapped her other arm protectively around him. "One thing seems certain," she said aloud, and Raphael noticed the entire room look toward the curly-haired woman. "It has to end here. There isn't another option. Takashi has demonstrated that the law isn't capable of dealing with him effectively. If he's going to be stopped, if whatever plan he has is going to be thwarted, it's up to you guys."

"No pressure." Mike sighed.


	45. Pushing

(Four Weeks Later)

Leonardo bent forward against the ledge of the building, and shook his head at the first crack of dawn that was appearing on the horizon. He glanced over his shoulder to see his brothers, and read their exhaustion easily in the unguarded moment. _We're pushing too hard, because we don't even know where to start. We keep searching for some sign of the Akiudo, when they might not be in the United States yet._

Leonardo rubbed his eyes wearily. "We're going to have to head back down."

"Defeated by the sun again," Raphael muttered.

"I say it wins by a landslide," Mike remarked.

Leo motioned with his head toward the side of the building, and led the way down to the street level silently. As they moved through the alley, the blue-masked turtle noticed a man lying on top of a pile of trash bags, with paper-wrapped bottle still clutched in his hand. He paused to check whether the man was breathing, and turned up the collar of his jacket protectively before nudging him. The human mumbled something indiscernible and released his hold on the bottle to scratch his forehead.

"He's fine, Fearless," Raphael said gruffly. "Let's go before we're walking around in broad daylight."

Leonardo continued toward the closest manhole. Once they were within the safety of darkness, he paused to address his brothers.

"This isn't working, you guys," he said judiciously. "I'm exhausted, _you're_ both exhausted, and you've each got kids to worry about."

"And _you've_ got a whole clan to worry about," Raphael returned. "What's your point, Leo?"

"The point is, we're wearing ourselves out with the all-nighters, and they're not doing any good. I don't think we're going to find the Akiudo this way."

"What can we _do_, Leo?" Mike wondered. "I mean, we can't keep this up, but we can't do nothing either."

"We aren't going to sit back and do nothing," he answered. "We'll keep patrolling, but we have to cut back on some of the hours. It isn't good for us or our family." _When a known threat exists, it's hard to close our eyes to it. But as of this moment, we don't have anything to go on, _he added inwardly.

The nod that Raphael gave him was a little begrudging. "Well, the girls won't be disappointed, that's for sure," his younger brother said.

"The kids won't either," Mike added. "Liv's been clinging to you a lot more."

The red-masked turtle winced. "I know. I hated leaving her crying like that last night, but this is about protecting her as much as everyone else."

In the days that had passed since Takashi had officially been sprung from Police custody there had been time for a lot of questions, but no answers. They were no closer to having a solution for keeping the rest of the family safe while they went about their normal business on the surface.

Greg and Sayuri's combined efforts hadn't turned up any new intelligence on the Akiudo. _It's as if they vanished off the face of the Earth. That would be okay with me, if they would _stay_ missing. But not knowing when they'll turn up again or what their plans are makes it so much harder to wait._

Leonardo felt a strong burden of discouragement that made his steps heavier than the weariness he was experiencing. _Something has to give here. Between the stress of waiting for them to show up, trying to keep our friends safe, and wondering what Takashi has up his sleeve…It's a wonder my blood pressure is anywhere near normal._

The rest of their walk back to the Den was silent, and it left Leonardo time for further contemplation. _Are we going about this the wrong way? Is it ridiculous to wait for them to come to us? We've all kicked around the idea of returning to Okinawa, but we don't know where they _are_. If we could get some clue, that would be really nice, _he thought with sudden annoyance.

_What I wouldn't give for a time machine to go back to that day on Yonaguni, so I could finish Takashi. But it doesn't exist, so there's no point in feeding into those kinds of thoughts, is there?_

Leonardo was a little surprised when he saw the front door. He'd been so lost in his thoughts that he'd barely noticed the ground they were covering. It had served as a good distraction from sore muscles if nothing else. The door felt like it weighed 1000 pounds as he yanked it open, and stepped into the darkened interior of the hallway.

The blue-masked turtle could just barely see the living area in the faint illumination of the nightlight, and it only made him feel more tired. He covered a massive yawn with his hand, right before he picked up a shadow moving nearby.

"Hey, guys," Calley called softly. The blond woman had no sooner risen from where she was sitting on the couch, than the kitchen door popped open too.

Jenna peered out from underneath the doorframe, allowing the brighter light from the kitchen to spill into the living area. "Good, it's about time," the Australian woman said with satisfaction. "You guys keep cutting it awful close with the sun. Take a load off and start winding down. The kitchen is open and fully stocked, so your wish is our command."

Leonardo shook his head. "This isn't necessary, as much as we appreciate it."

Calley caught him lightly by the arm. "It's all right to let us do things for you, Leo. It's not as if it's an imposition."

He offered her a weak smile. "We don't mind it, Calley, it's just early, that's all. Sometimes all I feel like doing is rolling into bed," he said honestly.

"You can do that too," she told him. "All of you certainly need the rest."

Leonardo looked down the hall. "Would you come with me, for a little while at least?"

"You don't have to ask, Leo. There's no place I'd rather be."

"Well maybe _Leo_ wants to go to bed hungry, but we worked off a few thousand calories, and I mean to replace some of them," Mike quipped.

"You're in _real _danger of starving, knuckle-head," Raphael returned.

"Look who's talking, thunder-shell."

"I'm sure I just hallucinated what you said, so I'll do you the favor of not kicking _your_ shell."

"I'll say it again if you need to hear it—"

Leonardo turned the corner of the hallway as his youngest brother's squeal filled the air, and he hurried into the bedroom. He sighed gratefully as Calley shut the door behind them.

"I don't know how they have the energy for it," Leo said, dropping onto the edge of the bed. "No matter how far we run, they always have enough strength left over to throttle each other."

"At least their spirits are in a good place." Calley smiled. "Where is yours?"

"Bogged down," he replied. "I'm not sure what the right thing is, but I know we can't keep doing what we have been. We're becoming exhausted."

Calley nodded. "I can see it wearing on all three of you. I didn't want to say anything to pull you back, but it was difficult not to."

"We're stuck, Calley. The ball is in Takashi's court. Until he throws it, until he does _something_, we have nothing to go on. Maybe he expects us to simply turn up the way we have in the past, but Takashi never realized _how_ we were tracking them. It's a terrible thing to come to the realization that we can't make a move until the bad guy makes one first."

Calley gave him a pained look. "I agree; it isn't a good feeling." The young woman sighed softly. "Why don't you go ahead and lie down, Leo?" she encouraged him. "Are you sure you don't need anything else?"

"Maybe just some water and you."

"That sounds doable."

* * *

><p>It was almost 1:00 p.m. before Leonardo stirred from the position in which he'd fallen asleep, as the sound of barking resounded in his ears. The blue-masked turtle sat up and slowly stretched his muscles, while he listened for more signs of life from the living area. The barking was interspersed with giggling, which could only suggest the presence of certain pair of little girls.<p>

Leonardo got to his feet and opened the bedroom door to find Olivia toddling down the hall with a plastic serving spoon, chasing one of the Border Collies. Reina was on her knees a few feet away, petting the other dog which he immediately identified as Molly by her snow-white face.

"Hey, Liv," Leonardo called after the little turtle. "Look at your cousin. She's got the right idea with the doggy, see? You have to be nice, and then they'll let you pet them. You don't chase them with utensils. This is why Tiger won't come near you."

Leo gently pried the spoon from Olivia's grasp, and sighed when she threw herself to the ground in protest. "That's not going to work on me, Liv." He hefted the baby turtle over his shoulder as she continued fussing at him for ruining her game of chase.

Karina almost ran into him as he crossed into the living area. "_Sorry_, Leo," she said at once. "I didn't mean to let them wake you!"

"It's okay, Karina. It's hard to sleep the day away with everyone else being up, and I'd kind of like to see Don too. Who needs eight hours of sleep?"

The bronze-haired woman took the crying turtle off his hands. "_You_ do, at least once in a while," she chided. "You should go back to bed for a couple more hours."

"That won't happen now that I'm up. Is there anything interesting going on?"

She shrugged. "It's a normal day, just quieter without you and your brothers filling up the space. These late nights make for more boring days."

"Your days are about to get a little louder again, so I hope you didn't get used to being bored." Leo grinned.

"Raph said you guys were going to cut back a little. I'd have to agree with that move."

"No one wants to quit altogether, but we can't continue at the pace that we have been taking for the last couple of weeks," Leo told her. "Who's around? It feels a little empty."

"Greg and Luke are helping Sayuri run around on the surface. She's supposed to be bringing the kids down later. Brandon has been in the kitchen with me. The guys tried to get him to go above ground with them, but he wasn't budging."

Leo sighed deeply. "If I wasn't afraid of triggering a negative reaction, I might do something drastic with him. It's been like two months. He has to go out in the daylight again."

Karina gave him a helpless look. "No one is willing to hog-tie him, Leo. Short of that, there's no way to force him."

Leonardo nodded. "It doesn't seem like it. At the same time, he's been a little more active around here. It might be appropriate to start him back on real exercise. It could be healthy for his mental outlook too."

"It could," she said. "I'm feeling better about him, Leo. There are flashes of the old Bran in there; I'm seeing it almost every day. But he's still so quiet most of the time."

"He'll get there, Karina," Leo said, patting her shoulder. "It may take longer than anyone wants it to, but I think we have a good reason to feel encouraged."

They'd avoided speaking about the Akiudo in Brandon's presence over the last few days, even though the man was fully aware of the mess in Okinawa. They'd found that Brandon tended to retreat when faced with certain subjects, and were trying to keep things as light as possible.

An electronic tone made Leonardo snap to attention. It was Donny's indicator from the Lab, which he only used as a "call" button when he needed to get someone's attention.

"I'm going to check on Don," he said.

"He might be lonely." Karina smirked. "He talked Luke's ear off all morning on the tablet, until he finally took it away from him. Donny's supposed to be resting."

"I'll see if he needs a bedtime story," he said sardonically.

Leonardo headed into the Lab, and folded his arms when he saw his brother scrolling through the screen of his tablet.

"Now _how_ did you get that back?" he demanded. "I just heard that you're supposed to be resting."

Donatello looked over at him with a mixture of apprehension and confusion in his eyes.

"Don, what's wrong?"

The purple-masked turtle lined down a window on the screen and brought up the text field to communicate. Leonardo grabbed the other tablet that was sitting on the desk, and found a message already waiting for him.

"_Do you have the TV on?"_

Leo shook his head. "I just woke up actually. We were out until daybreak again."

"_Leo, something weird is going on. You need to get out there and turn the News on."_

"What News? You mean ours?"

"_Yes, the local News. It ought to be interrupting the normal broadcast. You're not going to want to miss this."_


	46. Subway

Mike was already awakened by the door swinging open, but he was still startled by the _bang_ it made as it crashed into the wall.

"_Shell_, I'm up! You don't have to take the door off the hinges," he complained when he saw Raphael.

"Hurry and get downstairs, Chucklehead," his brother returned. "There's some kind of weirdness going on, and Leo wants to make sure we both see it."

The orange-masked turtle didn't even bother repressing a yawn, rubbing one eye tiredly as he picked himself up. He trotted down the steps after Raphael, and paused at the edge of the living area when he realized that everyone else was already huddled around the TV.

"What's going on?" Mike asked. "Is it the end of the world as we know it again? How many times will that make for one year?"

"Shh," Leo ordered. "We're trying to find out, Mike; we just turned it on."

Mike noticed Rebecca giving him a sidelong glance, and he came up to join the woman. He wrapped both arms around her waist from behind and silently focused on the screen.

_"…Officials have yet to release any numbers, but the stories coming from witnesses outside the Station have been discouraging so far. What started out as a normal afternoon on the subway has become a living nightmare for crew and passengers, and undoubtedly for the families left behind._

_"All we currently have available from the situation underground are still images, photos taken by those witnesses who filled the station before being evacuated by the Authorities. We have heard nothing from the passengers who survived the trip, which was clearly anything but a typical journey…"_

Michelangelo stared cluelessly at the pictures. He'd expected to see fire indicating some kind of explosion or accident that could explain several deaths on the subway. Instead he saw subway cars that looked completely unscathed, like a normal train.

_"Shaken passengers weren't given the opportunity to do anything except depart the carts according to witnesses, after which they were immediately escorted into seclusion. As of yet, we haven't received reports of any of the individuals being released from official custody._

_"Police have already indicated that there was no measurable amount of carbon monoxide, but they haven't offered any other explanation for the death toll across four of the cars. The Transit Authority has halted all current operations, while a thorough investigation is being carried out…"_

"Okay, so what'd we miss?" Raphael asked. "They got a bunch of people dead on the subway, and they don't know _why_?"

"Not according to the breaking news that Don saw on the Internet," Leo replied. "No sign of injuries or fire, no outward reason to immediately expect foul play, except for the selective method by which the people were affected. The word on the Internet is that the deaths were localized to specific cars."

Mike cocked his head. "And no one knows what happened to them?"

Raphael made a scoffing sound. "People don't just up and die for no reason. There's gotta be something they're not telling us."

"They're investigating the potential reasons, Raph. It's possible that…" Leonardo trailed off as the screen they were watching shifted to another frame, with a new update.

"_This just in, we are currently receiving breaking reports of a second train which is suffering similar conditions to that of our original story. No word on a death toll or number of cars that were affected, but we'll keep you updated as the word continues to come in._

_"If you're just joining us, we're receiving news that there are now two trains at separate locations with deaths that appear to be related, if for nothing other than their apparent lack of an explanation. Stay with us while we bring you live coverage from the street, and news as it breaks."_

"Now there are two?" Brandon murmured. "It's multiplying, whatever it is."

"What could go wrong on the subway?" Karina wondered out loud. "What could cause something like this?"

The blue-masked turtle shook his head. "I'm not sure, other than the obvious things that have been ruled out. I'm going to talk to Don and see what he thinks."

As Leonardo left the room, Mike nudged Becky in the direction of the couch.

"It's never a slow day in New York City, is it?" Mike offered weakly.

"Not for long," Rebecca said dryly, resisting his efforts to get her to sit down. "I'm not sure that I want to watch this, Mike, not when they don't have any information for us. It's like being slowly tortured with a meal you can't possibly eat, because they don't even have real food yet. They're only telling you what it smells like from where they are."

Mike's eye ridges rose. "Are you trying to make me hungry?" He gave her a half grin, but it faded as he looked back at the screen for another beat. "Nothing's really funny right now, is it? Not with a bunch of people being dead and no one knows why." The orange-masked turtle looked around as he realized something. "Where's Nate?"

"He fell asleep in his playpen, and I decided not to move him," Rebecca replied.

"You could have brought him upstairs, Beck. He wouldn't have bothered me."

"Nate is perfectly satisfied, and so were you." The young woman winked at him. "Do you want to watch this?" Rebecca motioned to the television.

"Not really," he said.

"Would you rather help me in the kitchen?"

Mike nodded and trotted after her as she started into the next room. "What were you working on? A late lunch?"

"More like getting an early start on dinner. I was bored, so I figured I could get the casserole _ready_, and it would only need to bake later on."

He took one look at the plastic package of egg noodles waiting on the counter and smiled. "Chicken Noodle?"

"It seems to be one of the few things Greg and Brandon have never teased me about."

Mike shook his head. "They just don't get someone who cooks as creatively as you do."

She gave him a withering smile. "It's a safer bet to go with you or Karina to get the mass crowd appeal. But I _can_ count on this one dish, as long as people will pick up the right noodles."

Mike snickered. Rebecca had given Jenna a thorough lecture the last time the raven-haired woman had gone to the store and picked up a bag of cheap egg noodles, instead of the home-style Amish variety that his wife preferred.

"I thought we had everything I need, except I can't find the onion. I was sure we still had one," Becky said distractedly, as she began searching through the refrigerator.

"Bottom drawer, Beck. There's at least half of one left."

' "That ought to do it." Rebecca found the plastic container of the leftover vegetable, and began gathering up a few more things.

Mike spun a skillet in his hands as he pulled it out from the cabinet. "Do you want me to get some garlic going?" he asked.

"You can go ahead and put some oil in the skillet too, just don't turn the heat on yet."

Mike cast her a lingering glance as she came over to the cutting board. "I'll do all the chopping if you want. Just leave the onion and celery over here. The onion and garlic start off alone, right?"

She smiled. "You know the recipe almost as well as I do."

Michelangelo focused on dicing the first two ingredients, while Rebecca was assembling things in the background. He was getting ready to throw the onion and garlic into the pan, when he noticed a small shudder run through the woman's shoulders.

"Becky? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said softly. "There are just so many so uncertainties, y'know? You don't get a chance to see things like this coming. I bet none of those people who got on the subway today expected to die before they got off at their stop. We didn't expect anything other than a normal night weeks ago, when _we _almost lost Don and Brandon.

"There's no way to predict these kinds of events, not even when they're huge enough to turn the entire world upside down. Do you believe that it's been about a year since the earthquake?"

Mike shook his head. "With everything that's happened since then, sometimes it feels like it's been longer."

"But it hasn't been," she said. "I didn't even know I was pregnant this time last year. Now Nate's here and suddenly…I'm feeling more apprehensive about the unknowns than ever. I've never liked giving into fear, Mike, but it's hard."

He was surprised to realize that she was on the verge of tears. Mike reached to turn the heat off on the stovetop so that the oil wouldn't smoke, and set his attention on the young woman. "What are you afraid of?"

"It's probably silly, Mike."

"Coming from you? Yeah, _right_. What are you thinking about?"

"You guys haven't had it easy, not by any stretch of the imagination," Rebecca said slowly. "When I think about Nate and the hardships that are ahead of him, sometimes I want to bang my head against the wall. There's part of me that wants to rant, because I don't think it's fair.

"Nathaniel is blessed to have been born into this family, and to have _you_ for a father. I just wish that things didn't have to be this hard and dangerous for him, the way I know they will be."

Mike shifted awkwardly. "It doesn't _have_ to be as hard for him as my brothers and I have had it. I mean…we go out _looking_ for trouble," he tried to say lightly.

Rebecca shook her head. "You go out to _fix_ trouble, Mikey. There's a big difference. What you do is important, even though many people will never realize it."

"I'm trying to say that…if the time comes, Nate doesn't have to get into this lifestyle, not just because we did. That was our choice all the way. He doesn't have to follow in our footsteps. When I really think about the risks that we take and _have _taken so many times, I almost hope that he doesn't."

"You don't regret it though," Rebecca pointed out.

"No, I don't regret it on _our _part. But maybe there's something better for him and Liv. Maybe they don't need to put their lives on the line like we have. These thoughts have crossed my mind, Beck, and I know you've probably had them too."

She nodded. "But I also think it's too soon to try to make any decisions _for_ them. I mean, you guys were raised under these streets, and look how you turned out."

He caressed her cheek with his hand, drawing her face closer to him. "We made it because we had each other. And for the record, Nate is blessed to have you for a Mom too."

Rebecca relaxed into his arms, and he felt like he was drawing just as much warmth from her presence as he was trying to project to her.

"You're such a good girl," he said. "How'd I end up with you?"

"The process of elimination helped," she teased. "You, me, the rainforest. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn't been stuck out there with me?"

"What, like you could have ended up with someone else? Nu uh, I'd have fought for you."

"You _won_ me over just by being you."

Mike shook his head. "I don't think there are a lot of girls that would say that about me, Beck."

"That's because they're blind," she replied. "I wouldn't trade you for anything, Mike, not for a normal life, not for all the money and security in the world. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

His arms tightened by reflex as she kissed him. He could have stayed happily that way for an hour, but the sound of nearby fussing caught his ear. Rebecca was the first to let go with a parting smile.

"Go get your son," she told him. "The two of you can keep me company while I cook."

"Sounds good to me, babe." Mike grinned. _He's the only thing that was missing from this picture._


	47. News

Donatello was getting his News the way he preferred to, by way of the instant Internet updates. While the articles were often extremely short, he considered it a better use of his time than waiting around for newscasters to get around to announcing the small tidbits in between commercial breaks.

Nonetheless, he was grateful when Leonardo came back. As solitary as Donatello often needed to be to get real work done, now wasn't a time when he wanted to be alone. His blue-masked brother stretched to reach the spare tablet and settled into the chair beside him.

"Are you keeping up with all of this?" Leonardo asked.

Don nodded. _"As much as they're telling us, Leo, which is hardly anything. The Authorities don't want to release too many details at once, and that's not a good sign. The complete lack of knowledge about the cause of deaths, I don't really buy it. I'm sure there has to be enough physical evidence between the victims for them to make some type of preliminary determination."_

"So why wouldn't they want to tell people what's going on? It seems like the Police would _want_ to provide some type of assurance, considering the number of people who use public transit. If it isn't carbon monoxide, what other invisible sources could be responsible for the death toll?"

"_There's a chance we're looking at something like an industrial accident, where there was unintentional exposure of some gas that has yet to be identified."_

"It would make sense for Officials to want to keep quiet about it too, at least if someone was trying to cover it up or downplay it. Is there _any_ chance that the earthquake could have contributed to a natural leak of some kind?"

Donatello hesitated, and then began typing again. _"The timing is strange. I mean, it's possible there was another small aftershock that we aren't even aware of. A lot of the underground pipes have experienced significant stress since last year…but I just don't know. The chance also exists that someone did this on purpose, Leo. We might be looking at something like the use of a nerve agent."_

Leonardo caught his breath. "But they only attacked a few of the cars? Where's the reason in that, Don?"

_"No one said that terrorists operate under reason, Leo. If we're looking at a worst case scenario, my guess would be that they're trying to exhibit the power they have over life and death. They kill people there, let them live over here. It leaves you questioning who could possibly be safe. We won't know anything for sure until they start communicating what they actually found in those cars."_

Leo leaned back thoughtfully in his chair, and Donatello could see the wheels turning in his mind. "Is there any advance warning when someone is using a nerve agent? If something like that was being used underground in the subway tunnels, it stands to reason that the sewers could eventually be affected."

Donatello tried to give him an encouraging smile. _"By our natural senses, they would be difficult to decipher. Most of them are colorless and odorless, and some are more lethal than others. But the detectors we have in place to scan for carbon monoxide and methane would probably be sufficient to pick up a change in air quality caused by a nerve agent too."_

"How much time would we have to evacuate in a situation like that?"

"_It depends on the gas, Leo. Some of them can kill you within a couple of minutes."_

"What about the oxis? Would they help?"

Don shook his head. "_Not with something that can be absorbed by the skin. It would take an entire bodysuit to ward off that type of agent."_

"Right…" Leonardo trailed off with a far-away look in his eyes. "I don't know. I guess I'm being paranoid, but it's impossible to know what to expect. The fact that it occurred onboard two different trains that were nowhere near each other…It doesn't feel accidental, does it?"

_"No, Leo, not to me either." _While Donny watched, his oldest brother retreated back into silent contemplation.

He took the opportunity to look down at the tablet in his hand, and reloaded the site from which he was receiving his news. Every so often an update appeared near the end of the story, but the last couple of times he'd refreshed the page, there hadn't been any new content. This time, however, a new comment with an asterisk greeted him.

Donatello snapped his fingers at Leonardo to get his attention before sending him a message. _"The National Terrorism Advisory System has been activated."_

"Then the authorities think this _was_ intentional," Leonardo said tightly.

"_They must have reason to suspect that it was. They're issuing warnings over all forms of public transportation, including rail and bus lines."_

"Shell," Leo proclaimed. "How are people going to get around the city?"

"_Got me, Bro. I hope they find a legitimate explanation that rules out terrorism, but I'm not holding my breath. They're not saying very much here, except that citizens should report suspicious activity."_

Leonardo rolled his eyes. "I wonder how many leads that will turn up in a place like New York City," he said sarcastically. "Talk about taking a shot in the dark."

Donatello shrugged. _"They don't have eyes everywhere, Leo. That's why they're encouraging people to be vigilant."_

"Yeah, vigilant." Leonardo sighed heavily. "If we could count on people to do that, we wouldn't be able to do _our_ job. This is nuts, Don. The city doesn't need this. They're still recovering from the earthquake."

Donny gave him a bleak look. _"All we can do is wait for more news, Leo. If it was a nerve agent, they're going to have to come out and tell us eventually."_

Leo nodded. "Sorry for pushing you for this information. I feel pretty wound up for a few reasons."

"_It's okay, Leo, I'm thinking about these things too. It's nice to be able to mull it over along with someone else."_

"You don't feel like you're being ignored, do you, Don?"

"_Not ignored, Leo, but still kind of on the outside. Let's face it: I'm the last one to hear about most things. The only reason I knew about this before anyone else was because I was already surfing the Internet."_

The blue-masked turtle grimaced. "I'm sorry, Bro. No one is trying to leave you out, but I know that's probably what it feels like."

"_No. It feels like people are trying to take it easy on me," _Donny countered. _"I'm better than I have been, Leo, honestly. I feel stronger now than I even did last week, and I'm definitely staying awake longer. I almost feel like I could pull an all-nighter." _He gave Leonardo a grin.

"Don't even think about it, Don. Knowing Doc, he'll rescind your tablet privileges or block your Internet."

"_Yeah, I know. I'm just saying that I can handle more, Leo. I may not be strong enough to get to my feet, but my mind feels clear. I can _feel_ the difference."_

Leonardo smiled wide. "We see the difference too. I'm already to the point where I can barely understand you again."

Donatello chuckled inwardly, but he felt bittersweet too. _What I wouldn't give for the opportunity to express myself the _normal_ way._

"Are you all right?" Leo asked, picking up on the subtle change in his countenance.

"_Yeah," _he answered. "_I just wish that the road back didn't have to be so long. I wish a lot of things. I want to push myself, but I can only do so much._"

"You're not the only one," his brother said morosely. "Raph, Mike, and I have been running too hard on the surface_. I've_ been pushing them too hard. We've been pounding the pavement, hoping for some sign of the Akiudo. It hasn't done us any good, and we're all exhausted."

"_It doesn't sound like non-stop running is the answer," _he said logically.

"Yeah, thanks, Don. Why couldn't you tell me that a few days ago?"

The purple-masked turtle shook his head. "_Would you have listened?"_

"Are you trying to say that I'm hard-headed?" Leo quipped.

"_No more than the rest of us,"_ Don said. "_How do you think we survive so many things?"_

Leonardo smiled back at him, and turned his head when there was a knock at the door.

Greg peered inside the room a moment later. "Hey, guys. We've come to hide from the latest disaster."

"Hi, Heff," Leonardo replied. "Did Doc and Kat come back with you?"

"Yeah, along with Sayuri and the kids. Could you handle a couple of visitors, Donny?"

Donatello nodded, and Leo got to his feet.

"He's all yours, Greg," Leonardo said. "I need to go clear my head."

After his brother left the room, the man held the door open and beckoned for someone else to come. Donny smiled when Shunshi entered the room, and the boy returned it timidly. The boy had been somewhat stifled in Donatello's presence ever since coming to the United States, but the turtle knew not to take it personally.

_Not everyone knows how to deal with the type of injury I'm facing, and he's just a kid after all. It doesn't help that his English is more limited than Hisui's. _Concentrating on the second language was harder for Donatello than focusing strictly on English. The teenage girl had been more than willing to translate between the two of them, but Shunshi hadn't been receptive. _My Japanese will get easier, along with everything else. It has to, _he thought hopefully.

The shock of dark hair that normally covered half of the boy's face looked like it had been recently cut, and Donatello made sure to mention it. _"You look good," _he told Shunshi.

"New life, new way to look," he said simply. "Different, but good."

Donatello nodded once more. _"Change can be good. Do you like your new home?"_

The boy raised his hand and shook it from side to side. "Is so-so. I wish to be with you."

"_You can see me any time you want to, Shun," _Don reminded him.

Shunshi gave him the first hint of a smile. "How you feel?"

"_Okay," _Donny typed, searching for the simplest words he could think of. "_Pain isn't bad. But I wish I could talk and get up from this bed."_

"We _all _want that," Shunshi said emphatically, and glanced back at Greg. "Greg-san, he take me to play games. Fun, but not like doing with everyone."

"_I understand. But you live on surface, Shun. It's good to do things there too."_

"Everything happens fast. Is difficult to keep up."

"_New York City is like that. But our friends are here to help you. You'll get used to everything, I promise."_

"I am happy to be here. When I heard of subway, I was scared."

"_Did you think that we were affected too?"_

The boy swallowed with a hesitant nod.

"_They are different tunnels, Shunshi. We have machines watching over us too. We are safe here," _Don said, even though he knew there was no certainty.

Shunshi looked at Greg again. "Greg-san made me feel not as scared. He said you were okay."

"_Yes, we are. You can always trust Greg to help you, Shun."_

The man looked like he was about to open his mouth, but then his hand reached for his belt instead. "Dang it," he said under his breath. "It's my boss. I thought this might be coming. Excuse me, guys."

The sandy-haired man picked up the phone. "This is Greg. Yes, Sir, I'm well aware of what's going on with…Not about the subway? Then why…right this second?" He was silent for a few seconds. "No, I agree that sounds strange." The man glanced at his watch. "I'm coming, but I'm a few minutes out. I'll do my best to get there before then."

Greg hung up without saying goodbye, and met Donatello's baffled gaze. "Kelley needs me at the temporary Field Office. I thought he was contacting me about the subway, but he said it's unrelated. Apparently someone's trying pretty hard to reach me, so I need to get down there."

"You are leaving?" Shunshi asked in confusion.

"I'll be back," he assured him, and made eye contact with Donatello again. "I'm going to sort out whatever this is at the Field Office, and I'll return as soon as I can."

Donatello raised a hand to bid him farewell, and watched the man hurry out of the room. _I wonder what that's all about. Well, it must be important. I'd better focus on the visitor at hand._

He smiled at Shunshi. _"Greg has an important job," _he told him.

"Like Sayuri-san did," Shunshi replied. "But so do you – the _most_ important."

"_All of the parts are important, Shun, even where you and your sister are considered. I'm glad you're here."_

"Me too, Donny-san."


	48. Threats

***...And, Kelley's back! I told you he'd still have a part to play in Watchmen. His true purpose won't emerge for awhile yet...but I promise it'll be worth it. ;)**

**My apologies for any confusion I created when I accidentally posted this chapter out of order. If you read this chap already, you need to go _back, _so you can read the one that actually came before it.**

* * *

><p>Greg was going out of his mind with possible scenarios by the time he reached the Plaza that was home to the temporary Field Office for the Federal Bureau of Investigation.<p>

It wasn't like Director Kelley to call him up out of the blue and demand for him to immediately appear at headquarters. _The last time was right after we came home from Okinawa, when that ridiculous Agent from the __Tokushu Sakusen Gun showed up for a second round of questions with me. But this call felt different, less confused, and more anxious._

The building was humming with activity as he strode through the ground floor. _Crime never takes a vacation, and neither can everyone who's dedicated to solving it. _If Greg was honest with himself, he had to admit that the position with the FBI was nowhere near as satisfying as it used to be, before he'd known the turtles. _The guys' particular method of investigation and _warrantless confrontation allows them to move so much faster _than those of us who have to operate under the restraints of the law. _The mind-numbing snail's pace of a typical case made Greg want to scream sometimes.

A couple of individuals greeted him as he continued toward the elevator, and he merely nodded to acknowledge them without stopping to make conversation or get drawn into giving assistance. Even when he wasn't actively working inside Intelligence, people seemed to gravitate toward him with questions of surveillance and computer issues. _Once you've got the experience, word gets around, _he thought ruefully.

The ride up a couple of floors in the elevator felt faster than normal, but that should have been a _good_ thing. According to his boss he needed to be here by a certain time, and the exact hour was already drawing near. Greg only hesitated for a beat outside the door that led to Kelley's office, then knocked firmly.

"Come!" Director Kelley's usual booming voice greeted him.

Greg turned the doorknob and looked inside the room. "Sir?"

"Heffernan." Matthew Kelley rose to his feet. "Come in and shut the door."

The man's words hung strangely in the air, as though there was a deeper meaning behind them. Since his boss was already standing, Greg didn't bother seeking out a seat.

"Sir, what is this about?"

"I was hoping you might have some idea," he replied, indicating a brown paper-wrapped package on the desk in front of him. "This was left for you by a courier roughly two hours ago. Mentioned you by name, but as you can see, there's no return address. A few minutes later the phone calls started, wanting to know if you'd received it.

"By the fourth time, personnel handed the caller off to me. Guy wouldn't tell me who he was, but he sounded foreign. I could tell he was covering up some kind of accent. He sounded calm, but there was something _off _about him. He told me that you were old friends, and that you needed to receive this package before 4:00pm. I tried to get more information out of him, but he hung up pretty abruptly."

"Did you trace the call?" Greg asked.

Kelley shook his head. "It came from a disposable cell. There was nothing to trace. Do you have any idea who might be trying to contact you? Clearly, it's not against the law to send someone a package, or to make sure that they get it. But the way he sounded on the phone just rubbed me the wrong way, and I couldn't get it out of my head."

Greg wondered if Kelley could hear his heart beating faster. _The answer seems obvious. I can't think of anyone other than Takashi who would fit that description, and need to contact me through the FBI. _He reached for the small package on the desk, fingering it lightly as if it could explode the moment he laid a hand on it.

Before he had time to think about it, he ripped part of the paper to reveal a box. Greg dug out his keys and used a sharp edge to cut through the tape that was sealing it. He sensed Kelley hovering over him as he opened the flaps of the box, and drew out a cell phone. He handled the device suspiciously, ignoring his boss.

"Why would someone send you a phone, Heffernan?"

Greg shook his head as he looked at his watch. "I don't know," he said vaguely.

"I'm not sure I believe that," Kelley said. "You don't look half as confused as I would be."

"Director, I don't know what's going on, but it's apparent that someone is trying to get in touch with me. I apologize that they used the Bureau for this." Greg backed up, inching toward the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Kelley demanded.

Greg looked at his watch again. "I think this call would be handled better in private."

"This has to do with your friends, doesn't it?"

Greg barely repressed a scowl. "It has to do with _me_, and I'm going to take care of whatever this is. Please don't start this debate over my friends right now. I'd rather not be caught up reasoning with you when this phone rings."

"I understand if you want to head out, Greg; I'd want my privacy too. But if you're leaving, I'm going with you."

"Sir, this isn't the time—"

"Do you have any idea how _many_ times I could have had you arrested, Heffernan? How many lies I've told through my teeth in the last couple of months? I know there's something serious going on around here, and I'm done being left out of the loop. I want to be _inside _the loop, Greg, or you can forget about getting any further cooperation from me."

Greg drew air in angrily. "I don't have time for this! I should have left already!"

"Then lead the way, Heffernan, and I'll be right behind you."

The younger man turned and stalked out of the office, not waiting to see if Kelley actually followed. The silent elevator ride down to the ground floor was awkward, and Greg refused to even look at his boss. _I should have known this arrangement wouldn't work out in the long run. It's clear that we're going to have to cut ties with him entirely, and the FBI for that matter. I wonder if Victoria has any contacts that are up high enough to protect Kat, Brandon, and me._

He continued ignoring Kelley as he traveled through the parking garage to retrieve his Jeep. His car was in sight when he finally looked back briefly. For all the large man Kelley was, he certainly wasn't heavy-footed. If he hadn't known his boss was behind him, he probably wouldn't have realized that anyone was there.

Greg tried to calm down his rapid breathing as he hesitated outside his Liberty, instead of getting in and driving away. The phone was still in his hand, and he took the opportunity to study it a little more closely. It wasn't a disposable toy like the one the Akiudo were using, and it made him feel paranoid. He wanted to take the device apart and search for a GPS chip or something else that the gang could ostensibly use to track his location. Judging from his watch, however, there wasn't enough time for the project before the call that was supposed to be coming. It left Greg with one bold option.

"What are we doing?" Kelley asked.

"Waiting for the phone call. Isn't it obvious it's supposed to be coming?" Greg snapped. He lingered outside the Jeep, watching as the final minutes ticked by on a clock.

Even though he expected the phone to ring, Greg still jerked when it went off in his hand. He took a deep breath before answering. "Hello?" he said flatly.

"Agent Heffernan. I'm so pleased that you were prompt."

Amidst the sensation that the air was being sucked out of his lungs, Greg's mind analyzed the voice on the other end. The stranger had made no attempt to hide his accent from _him_.

"Aren't you supposed to be _dead_?" Greg fumed sarcastically.

A chuckle met him. "It's the most interesting thing, Agent, to find a new lease on life by ending your own."

His rage boiled over in a loud swear. "Now listen to me, you blood-sucking bastard! If you wanna talk, we're gonna do this _my_ way. I'm not using some wretched phone of yours that could be bugged. Here's my number – call me back!" Greg recited the digits clearly, and hung up the phone before he could hear anything else Takashi had to say. He dropped the device on the pavement, and smashed it underfoot as hard as he could.

Kelley was startled. "What are you _doing_?"

"Leaving," he replied, snagging his regular phone off of his belt.

"You _let _me in that car or I'll put out an APB on your vehicle so fast it'll make your head spin!"

Greg hit the button to unlock all the doors, but refused to look at his boss as the man hopped in the passenger side.

"Heffernan, what was the point in destroying that phone?"

"They can't track _my _phone."

"_Who_ can't track your phone?"

Greg waved him off momentarily as his cell phone vibrated. "What do you want?" he demanded of the caller.

"I dare say that was rude, Agent." Takashi's infuriating voice said smoothly.

"You haven't seen anything yet!" Greg shot back. "Tell me what you want. What's your game here?"

"I don't play games, Agent. With what is at stake, it would not be wise for you to play games with _me_ either."

"What are you talking about? You're the one who wanted to get in contact, so spell it out for me, old man. Exactly what are the stakes?"

"The Shitenno behave more strangely than I ever imagined they would," Takashi said thoughtfully, as if he hadn't heard anything that Greg had said. "I don't understand their attachment to this city. I suppose if I were to spend some time here and had a chance to get to know New York, it might make sense to me. I have only been here a short while, but I have at least learned that I am better off avoiding the subway."

Takashi laughed, and Greg felt like chills were overtaking his body.

"The subway?" he repeated. "It was _you_?"

"Now be serious, Agent," the man said patronizingly. "How could a dead man kill someone else?"

Intelligent speech was escaping Greg for the moment, and it gave Takashi a chance to continue.

"I was hoping you might tell our mutual friends that I have come to enjoy some quality time in their beloved city. Can I trust you to let them know that I called?"

"You _will _be dead before this is over!" Greg exploded.

"It was nice talking to you, Agent. We will have to do this again."

Takashi hung up too quickly to hear Greg's colorful response. An ear-splitting yell left the man's mouth as he slammed his hand against the steering wheel.

"Heffernan, _what _is going on? You have 30 seconds to tell me who you were just talking to!" Kelley ordered.

Greg shook his head. "This is so far beyond anything you want to be mixed up with, Sir."

"I'm here, Greg, and I _already_ know too much! Telling me who just called you and what they had to do with the attack on the subway isn't going to change that!"

He turned in his seat to face his boss. "The Akiudo are back."

"The slave traders?"

"They're not slave traders anymore. I don't know what their premise is currently, but it sounds like it's going to be worse than it was before."

"I'm confused. I know that their leader is in Prison—"

"_Was_ in Prison, Sir! I take it that you haven't heard any of the international news out of Japan."

"I see things from time to time, but—"

"There was a supposed assassination attempt on Takashi's life, while he was in Police custody weeks ago. Does that ring any bells?"

"That escaped me, I'm afraid."

Greg braced a hand over his temples. "You might not believe a word of what I'm about to tell you, but I couldn't _make_ this stuff up. The Akiudo came to spring Takashi, and they set up an impressive ruse to convince the authorities that a vigilante seeking revenge took him out, along with several officers. That's the story the Media is covering.

"Do you remember my friend Detective Kimura? The woman I was questioned about by that Special Agent that came from Japan? She was there. She knows what actually happened, and the gang almost got away with taking her too. That madman is on the loose, and now he's _here_. He's here, Director, and that means nothing good for New York City."

"Did he claim responsibility for the attacks on the subway?"

"Not in so many words, but it was insinuated."

"Then we have to report this! We have to tell the authorities who they should be investigating!"

"Are you suggesting that we tell the Police that a dead man from Okinawa has resurrected his gang and turned up in Manhattan, just to plan some attack on our subway system? We have no proof to connect him to the crime, no way to verify for them that he's alive other than Sayuri's witness, and no knowledge of his location!"

Kelley sat back further with an unfamiliar look of defeat in his dark eyes. "Then what on earth are we supposed to do, Greg?"

He started his car with a twist of his keys in the ignition. "This is why vigilantes exist, Director. I can't think of anyone else who's going to be able to stop the Akiudo."


	49. In the Loop

Leonardo greeted Greg and Director Kelley somberly. When the sandy-haired man had asked him about bringing his boss underground, the turtle barely batted an eye. He was reeling too hard from the revelation that the Akiudo was responsible for performing something akin to a terrorist attack on American soil. _And the subway might only be the beginning._

There was fear in Matthew Kelley's eyes today; not as much as the first time they'd met inside the crumbling Javits building the year before, but he appeared to be shaken nonetheless. The large man took everything in silently, until Leonardo addressed him directly.

"Well, you wanted to be inside the loop, Director," Leo said. "I'd say that you got what you asked for."

Kelley continued looking around. "I never imagined that something like this could exist. You…you've always lived down here?"

Leo nodded. "Yes. We can't exactly go out and rent an apartment."

"No, I wouldn't think…" Kelley trailed off. "You were in a lot of danger from that earthquake, weren't you? Did you suffer major damage?"

"Donatello's Lab was pretty much totaled, but we didn't lose much else."

"His Lab?" Kelley repeated.

"Yeah, _Lab_," Greg inserted. "Where do you think their medical staff operates? We can't hijack a hospital, even if they've joked about it."

Kelley glanced at Greg, then back at Leonardo. "Why is it so quiet?"

Leonardo shook his head. "We've been on high alert for weeks, Director—"

"Matthew," Kelley interrupted. "For all intents and purposes, my title doesn't exist down here."

The blue-masked turtle wasn't sure if he would be able to convince himself of that. "We've been watching for signs of the Akiudo within the city limits, pulling all-nighters to search for them. I don't know what we thought we were looking for, but this event with the subway wasn't it," Leo said quietly. "We're aware of the violence they're capable of, but this is still a new low for them."

"Where are the rest of your people?" Kelley asked.

"Around. We're all trying to digest this, Matthew. I can gather everyone up," he offered grimly. _I'm also trying to imagine what in the world our next step should be, _he added inwardly.

"That can wait, if it's easier," Kelley said. "Right now, I'd just like to catch up. I need to know what _you_ know about the Akiudo."

"Let me grab Sayuri and Kat at least," Leonardo suggested. "It would probably suit us better to have them in on this discussion." He knew that the women were in the kitchen, and he had only to stick his head in the next room to invite them to join the conference.

"Would you like to sit down, Sir?" Greg sounded stiff as he addressed Kelley.

The larger man sank to the end of one of the couches, eyeing Greg. "You don't really believe that I wanted to put you in jail, do you, Heffernan?"

"I can only operate according to your threats," Greg said flatly.

"If you didn't make this so darn difficult, I wouldn't have _had_ to threaten you!"

"All due respect, Sir, but you're the one who can't decide what you want. In, out, hands-on, hands-off! How do you expect me to react? This club isn't something you walk into on a whim; it's a commitment and a _responsibility_. If you can't honor that, then you don't belong here."

Kelley took a sharp breath. "All right, I get it. My position is complicated, Greg; you know that. I don't want to drag my family into this, and as much as I don't want to mix business either…Things are going on behind the scenes whether I condone them or not. It makes more sense for me to be _aware _of some of it rather than continually burying my head in the sand. Are you capable of accepting my presence here?"

"It's not your presence I have an issue with," Greg said bluntly. "It's whether or not you have the ability to keep your mouth shut about my friends. I don't care if I have to go to jail to protect them. I'll do it in a heartbeat. But you? You don't have that type of loyalty where they're concerned, and yes, that scares me. It scares me a whole lot."

Kelley rested his chin in one hand. "I suppose your fears are founded. I can't guarantee how far I'll be able to go to protect them, but I'll say this: I'm not going to betray them, their home, or _you_, Heffernan."

Leonardo cleared his throat as he sat down in a chair, and motioned for Katherine and Sayuri to come further into the room. "For the record, we don't require that type of 'throw it all away' loyalty from any of our friends."

"No, it just naturally evolves based on the way _you_ guys constantly risk your skin for perfect strangers," Katherine said, and met Matthew Kelley's gaze. "Hello, Sir."

"James," he said soberly, and then looked at the Asian woman. "And you must be the Detective Kimura I've heard so much about."

Sayuri nodded. "I am she," the woman said cautiously. "You are Greg-chan's Director?"

"That's true, but this right here is outside of the…normal confines of FBI business. I'm just trying to figure out what's going on in our city." Kelley maintained eye contact with her. "Tell me about this Takashi character."

"What is it you really want to know, Director?" Sayuri asked.

He shrugged helplessly. "Whatever is going to help me to help _you_."

Sayuri's brow creased. "There is much that no one knows about Matsuo Takashi. The first stories of the Akiudo began circulating Okinawa roughly fifteen years ago. I was young and fresh from school. I worked my way up through the local Police department, hearing rumors about the gang from time to time.

"It was largely suspected that they were involved in illegal activity, but no one had been able to confirm it. They were like phantoms that didn't leave a trail. It was eight years before I had the opportunity to join a task force that focused on a specialized type of criminal investigation. Among other cases that we worked on, the Akiudo's was always open.

"We received a break in our investigation upon the Akiudo when we found an informant who was already in prison, seeking a reduced sentence in exchange for testimony. He led us to a safe house, and he gave us the first glance we had of the inner workings of the gang.

"It was from him that we learned that the Akiudo was involved in trafficking, not drugs or stolen goods, but young women. We trod carefully in following up leads, but not carefully enough. We didn't think we would be expected when we converged upon the safe house, but we were wrong. We had no sooner started combing the house, than explosives leveled the property with my team inside.

"I was the only one who survived. The event kicked off the one-woman crusade against the Akiudo that I was never willing to relinquish, not even when all the officers around me believed the gang had faded out of existence. I was still determined to find them, though I was hopelessly alone in my quest. That was until I received an unexpected phone call from the United States." Sayuri looked at Greg.

The sandy-haired man swallowed deeply. "I'm the one who contacted Sayuri, but our story with the Akiudo didn't start with me." Greg turned to Leonardo.

The blue-masked turtle met Kelley's steady gaze. "It was a night like any other when we're running a patrol on the surface. We'd already split up, and Raphael and I observed a group of men behaving strangely outside a Club."

"And they turned out to be Akiudo?" Kelley asked.

"No, but they worked for them," Leo answered. "We found out later on that the gang was using American men to perform a lot of their dirty work inside the Clubs rounding up targets. The men blended in with regular clientele easily, and they were expendable, meaning that Takashi didn't care what happened to them.

"Raph and I staked out the Club to wait for the men to come out, and sure enough, they were up to no good. They exited with two women who'd obviously been drugged. At that point my brother and I stepped in, without any idea what we were getting into. We had no difficulty taking out the Americans, but it didn't end there. First _one _of the Akiudo showed up, and Raph and I worked together to bring him down. Then several more of them arrived, without any warning. We were on the street level, concerned about maintaining a low profile, and keeping the young women safe.

"We made the choice to flee over the rooftops, but we were pursued both over the city, _and _on the street. They got ahead of us and we were cornered. We'd already sent out a distress signal to our other brothers, and they barely arrived in time to save our shells. The four of us had to fight as hard we could, but the battle still ended without us. One moment we were still straining to overcome them, and the next, the Akiudo had disappeared _with_ the young women."

Kelley shook his head. "They don't sound human. I've _seen_ you move, and I know about the extraordinary skills you possess. But this gang…"

"They're warriors too," Leonardo supplied. "Some of them are better than others, but they're definitely nothing to scoff at. Of course at the time, we had no idea what was going on. We didn't get our first break in the mysterious case until some of the Akiudo began searching for _us_.

"They threatened someone behind prison walls, who was known for having 'Phantom' connections. He was nothing but an insignificant kid who worked for another enemy at one point. We don't know what he told the gang, but the young man also came forward to contact _our_ people. That was the first time we heard about the Akiudo." Leonardo nodded at Greg.

"I began performing my own research, and that's when I learned about Sayuri," Greg said. "We started exchanging e-mails and phone calls about the gang. That was our original connection."

"There are a lot of things we could tell you about the Akiudo," Leonardo said thoughtfully. "We can get into more of the old stories later, but here's what you need to know for the moment. Takashi is a cold, superstitious man who's obsessed with power. It's nothing for this gang to kill several people at a time. They're absolutely lethal."

"How did you know that they would return to the United States?" Kelley glanced at Sayuri. "Did you hear something to that effect?"

"No, it didn't start with Sayuri this time," Leo said tightly. "It began _here_ several weeks ago, the night that Brandon was supposed to get on that plane."

Kelley's head whipped around. "When he was kidnapped?"

Leo nodded. "That was when Donatello was attacked too. We didn't get to the bottom of everything until we found out that Bran wasn't on that plane. We followed his implant to the Night Club, and in the process of performing surveillance, Kat and I made another disturbing discovery. We observed a high-ranking member of the Akiudo, and heard his end of a telephone conversation. That was when we found out that Takashi had plans for returning to the United States.

"The individual that we discovered was regrouping with a number of the gang members who were left behind the last time the Akiudo was on US soil. The man led an independent mission to kidnap Brandon, and then attacked Donatello when he walked into the apartment unsuspecting."

Kelley's forehead furrowed. "Soiree," he said suddenly. "Local cops got the call to pick up all those Asians…and one dead. That was you guys? That was the _Akiudo_?"

"Yes," Katherine spoke up. "But _I'm_ the one who killed that man. It was in self defense of another member of our team."

Leonardo shot Kat a look, but the woman scowled.

"He already has enough information to destroy us all, Leo," she pointed out.

Kelley appeared to be sizing Katherine up. "Self defense?"

"Yes," she insisted. "He had Timothy Long by the throat, and he was about to snap his neck. I trust you remember him from the boat last year?"

Kelley looked concerned. "This is difficult, James. This information puts me in a precarious position."

"You wanted to know," she said sharply.

"I did," he allowed and sighed. "Now the rest of them are here, and the only other thing I want to know for the moment is _how_ you're going to find them."

"We don't know yet, Matthew," Leo said. "But we're the reason Takashi's here, so I'm sure he intends to reveal himself somehow. We'd much rather find him before he has a chance to do anything else, but I think it's going to take some cooperation between _all _of us."


	50. Handle

Raphael stared across the mat at Brandon. The man had been glued to the wall for the last hour, watching the red-masked turtle running through some katas.

"I'm confused about what you're doing," Raphael said bluntly. "Did you come here to watch me, or are you just trying to avoid that Kelley guy?"

"No one invited him down here, Raph." Brandon scowled. "It was the wrong time for Kelley to start making threats and demands."

Raphael crossed both legs underneath him as he sat down on the mat. "True enough, but I don't think you're avoiding him because of what Kelley might do to _us_."

"Who said I _was_ avoiding him?" the man shot back.

Raphael took a deep breath. "You ain't exactly a newcomer around here, Bran. I've come to feel like I know ya, as if you're another one of my bros. I can tell you don't wanna face Kelley."

"You _don't_ know me, not this version," he said sharply.

Everything in Raphael's gut told him to drop the subject before it was too late, but he resisted the urge. "You might not feel like yourself, Bran, but you're still in there. I see it, and the others see it. How long are you gonna hole up where it's safe before you face the world again?"

"You don't have the faintest idea what I'm dealing with. Do you think I _want_ to stay in prison where I can't even see the light of day?"

"Maybe you don't want to, but that's exactly what you're doing. What's it gonna take to get you back on the surface, Man? You say the word, and I'll do it."

"This isn't something that you or anyone else can fix. There's no magic pill I can take to make all of this go away. Kat wants me to see a therapist. A _therapist_, Raph! Can you imagine the conversation? 'Hey, I can't tell you anything about my life, but could you please give me some kind of happy shot in order to satisfy everyone else?'"

"We see _hope_ for you, Brandon; that's why we keep pushing."

"_Pushing_ won't make me go any faster! Can't any of you understand that? I told Kat I have to do this my way, in my timing."

"Okay. I'm sorry, Man, I'm just…I'm trying to be there for you the only way I know how."

He eyed Brandon as the man clung to the wall, clutching his right arm in customary fashion. The cast had been off for days, but the man barely seemed to notice.

"We don't need to talk about Kelley or the surface," Raphael said. "We could try doing what we came here for. Don't you think that arm would feel better if you started on some of the strengthening exercises that Marc was talking about?"

Brandon wouldn't meet his gaze. "It feels like a twig, Raph. I'm not ready for this."

The turtle got to his feet since relaxing hadn't encouraged Brandon to take a load off. "Bran, Marc is a specialist, and he knows what he's talking about. I could have lost my leg without his help. If there's one thing I learned at Lotus Salvus, it was to listen to Marcus.

"I didn't think I was ready when he encouraged me to try walking for real. It had been months since I'd been on my feet unaided, and even though I'd been working with him, I wasn't sure my leg would support me. Marc didn't make me do it, and no one's gonna make _you_ do anything. But if you want the chance to be back at full strength, then you'd better do what the expert says."

"It's easy for you guys to tell me to do something when you're not hindered the way I am. Simple for everyone else to expect me to get off my tail and leave this Den, when they're not afraid of what could be around every corner!"

"Bran, I'm not even talking to you about the surface," Raphael fought to keep an even tone. "I dropped it, and I'll drop this too."

"For how long?" he countered. "None of you seem to understand that it won't work this way!"

"Then tell me what to do, Brandon. Tell me what you want!" Raphael's annoyance had finally kicked in, and his voice rose accordingly.

"I don't want _anything_! How many different ways can I say that I don't want your help?"

"Bran, if you don't…" Raphael instantly cut off when he heard the door behind him.

"You guys? Are you okay in here?" Karina asked tentatively.

_Shell, we were definitely getting too loud, _he thought hastily. "Yeah, we're fine," he assured the woman.

"_I'd _be fine if you would get off my case!" Brandon proclaimed.

Raphael threw a glare his direction. "Okay, Man. You say you don't want help, but you don't want to be left alone. You don't want to be in prison, but you won't take any steps toward being free. You get mad at me for pushing you, but if you'd _quit_ acting like you died back there, maybe I wouldn't have to!"

When Brandon launched off the wall, Raphael was quick to take a step backward out of the way. He assumed the man was only trying to flee the room, and shot Karina an apologetic look. In that split second the turtle completely missed the left hook until it collided with his chin.

He wasn't aware of anything for a few seconds, except for the ringing in his own ears. Presently Karina's voice broke through the sound, though he didn't understand what she was saying. When he blinked his eyes he found the woman bending over him as if he was on his death bed.

"_Shell_, Kari, let me breathe," were the first irritated words to come to mind. He was both confused and angry, and he knew that it had to do with Brandon. He grunted as he started to roll upright.

"Hold on, Raph," Karina said firmly. "Just hold on a minute. He hit you _hard_."

"No kidding. You'd think your brother's been working out with ninjas for the last few years," he said sarcastically, rising onto his knees despite her protests.

He didn't have time to get to his feet before Luke trotted into the room. "Great, the Cavalry," Raphael said dryly. "I'm _fine_."

"Raph, you know how this works," Luke said patiently. "No one goes down without getting checked out. With the number of times you've had concussions—"

"Wait – where's Brandon?" Once the initial confusion had passed, concern was swift to rise. "Where did he go?" he demanded.

"He ran," Luke said softly.

"Did someone go after him? He could do something really stupid!" Raphael's voice rose another degree in intensity.

"Its okay, Raph," the man said calmly. "Leo followed him, and he won't let anything happen to Brandon. Now will you relax and let me see the impressive bruise your brother-in-law gifted you with?"

"Impressive," Raphael scoffed under his breath. "It'd _be_ impressive if it was a fair hit." But he was more worried now than he was angry. "Sorry, you guys," he told both humans. "I guess I pushed way too hard."

* * *

><p>Brandon felt like the tunnel was spinning around him as he gasped for air. Just the same, he had no desire to stop, because that would mean being forced to talk to Leonardo.<p>

His arm grazed the side of the tunnel as he tried to support himself under the crushing dizziness. His hand slid across the wall as if it was made of ice, and he felt his knees buckling. Brandon's vision blurred as he fell, distracting him as he landed on his face.

In that panicked moment he sensed that the demons were upon him, that they'd finally come to finish him off. Brandon flailed his arms wildly, but a strong weight was already pinning his back down from behind.

"Brandon, stop it." The voice wasn't angry or threatening, but the quiet power behind it still frightened him. "Quit fighting me. Where are you?"

It was the question that Leonardo had gotten in the habit of asking Brandon, in order to ground the man in some sense of reality instead of the illusions that his mind projected.

"Where are you, Brandon?"

The man went absolutely still, even though his heart continued racing as adrenaline began winding down. "I'm…I thought you were _them_," he said weakly.

The pressure lessened on his back, and he felt arms turning him over, pressing him up against the wall.

"But now you see your friend, right?"

"Yes," Brandon said faintly.

"I think that was a little much for your first run, Bran. Are you still dizzy?"

"Uh huh."

"We should probably rest for a few minutes before we head back. I could call someone to come get us too, if that would be easier."

"I can't go back." Brandon's throat felt like it was closing up with the words. "Don't you know what I did?"

"You hit Raph," Leonardo replied.

"It _wasn't_ an accident," Brandon murmured. "I knew what I was doing. I was just mad."

Leonardo settled on the floor beside him. "You're not the first one to lash out because you were angry, Brandon. Raph and I have gotten into it with each other more times than I can count, and let's not forget the _ultimate_ spar where I destroyed Don's knee. I know you don't want to go back there right now, but running won't solve anything."

"Neither will hiding," the man said quietly. "That was all Raph was trying to tell me. Geez, I'm sorry, Leo. I flew off the handle."

"Brandon, you need to realize that we've _all_ been there. To some degree, we can empathize with everything you're going through." Leonardo paused for a long moment. "I know it isn't fair. I would do anything to have taken your place. I'm sorry you're going through all of this because of _us_."

Brandon peered at the turtle more closely when he heard Leonardo's voice crack.

"I don't blame you for not wanting our help," Leo continued. "I'd understand if you didn't want anything to do with us."

Brandon sat up further, swallowing. "Leo, listen to me. I'm messed up, but it's not because of you or anyone back there." He drew his knees against his chest as he searched for more words. "I don't wish it would have been someone else. I wouldn't want any of you to be hurt that way."

"It's _not_ fair, Bran," Leo repeated. "Of all the times our loved ones have suffered for daring to have a relationship with us, this has to be the worst. And I know that there's nothing we can say or do to make it right."

Brandon couldn't stand the sight of the turtle's tears. "I don't need you to make it right, Leo. I know that things are still screwed up inside of me, but I'm here. I'm alive because you guys found me, and you stuck with me when I didn't think life was _worth_ living."

The blue-masked turtle didn't say anything, and Brandon allowed silence to reign between them for a few moments.

"I don't really feel like my arm is healed," he said finally. "Most of the time, I think it's still in that same sad state it was in when you found me. But Marc is the doctor, and he says the bones have mended. Even though it doesn't seem like I should be using it, the truth is something else entirely. I don't _feel _like I'm ready to do anything physically. But how far did I run tonight?"

Leo shrugged. "About two miles?"

"Donny told me that I needed to separate myself from what I'm feeling, because the emotions aren't reliable. He's right. My arm is healed, and it can handle the strengthening exercises. Maybe my _mind _is nowhere near healed yet, but that doesn't mean I should stay buried, cut off from the rest of the world."

Leonardo looked up at the dark grating that was nearby. "The world is still up there, whenever you're ready for it."

Brandon nodded. "Yeah, I know. But not tonight, not after this thing with Raph. Soon, I promise."

The turtle got to his feet. "Do you wanna head back? Do you think you have the energy?"

Brandon took his proffered hand and waited to make sure he had his balance. "I think I'm okay."

"We'll take it slow," Leo said.

As Leonardo turned, Brandon reached for his shoulder.

"Leo, you _know_ that I don't blame you guys, don't you?"

"It's hard not to blame _ourselves_," he said honestly.

"Please don't," Brandon told him, though he knew he couldn't convince the turtle. One of his arms went around Leo spontaneously. "I _do_ need all the help you guys can give me."

Leonardo met his gaze, tentatively wrapping an arm around his back in return. "You know there's nothing we wouldn't do for you, Brandon."

"I don't want you to feel responsible for this," the man said. "Somehow, we're gonna have to work through it together."


	51. Watchmen

Michelangelo jumped to his feet as soon as he heard the front door opening. He was relieved to see the bronze-haired man shuffle inside first, with eyes averted to the floor. Leonardo came in behind him, and caught Mike's gaze. His brother nodded reassuringly, and Mike breathed a little easier.

Brandon looked like he wanted to do nothing more than keep walking right past the living area, but he held his ground for several silent seconds.

"Bran, it's okay," Leo encouraged him. "No one is against you here."

"I know it shouldn't take me this long, but I need another minute." Brandon took a couple of deep breaths. "I'm sorry, everyone," he said finally. His eyes searched over the room, until he settled on the red-masked turtle who was merely observing him. "I'm sorry, Raph. I was wrong."

Raphael slowly rose. "My chin's not glass, Man. I'll be all right. In a way, I guess I kinda deserved it."

The man shook his head. "No you didn't," he insisted. "Things are changing more slowly than they should be but…I'm not ready to give up. I didn't mean what I said, about not needing you." Brandon glanced around the rest of the room awkwardly. "Now that I've made a complete jerk of myself, I think I'm just going to get out of the way."

The man turned to go down the hall, but Mike noticed that he didn't push Raphael away when the turtle followed him. Mike noticed that Director Kelley's eyes pursued Brandon and Raphael too, and he took the opportunity to study the man.

There was something about Kelley's presence that made Mike feel like he needed to sit up straighter and keep his mouth shut_. I get the feeling he's mulling things over, and trying to see through everybody. Maybe that's normal for Kelley, but it makes me want to stay on my toes around him. Better to keep my big mouth shut and avoid saying the wrong thing._

Mike quickly looked away before Kelley's attention returned to the living area.

"Can someone tell me what's going on with Brandon? I've gotten to know the man a little bit, and I've never seen him look like that. Not even when the two of us were almost buried alive under Javits," Kelley said. "And what about your missing brother? I remember Greg mentioned that he'd been severely injured when we were back in Jamaica."

Leonardo moved to the edge of the couch. "You know that Brandon was kidnapped by members of the Akiudo. They hurt him. They tortured him in order to acquire information about _us_," Leo said stiffly.

Mike watched Kelley for a reaction. The man's shoulders stiffened, but he didn't speak.

"When we found him, he was in a state of psychological shock," Luke added. "They waterboarded him, repeatedly. Brandon has actually progressed some since then, but he's dealing with a strong form of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He hasn't been to the surface since he was rescued, by his own wishes."

"He's getting closer though," Leonardo chimed back in. "He left the Den tonight, and he hadn't done that yet either. At the same time, there's a very fine line between encouraging him and pushing him, and we need to be aware of it."

"No kidding," Mike murmured.

"I doubt he'd come after anyone else the way he did Raph, but we need to treat him carefully," Leo finished.

"Then Brandon is still recovering from whatever those men did to him." Kelley stared into space as he spoke. "And Donatello? You didn't mention him."

"He's recovering too," the blue-masked turtle said. "He suffered a bad head injury that's left him handicapped."

Mike's blue eyes narrowed angrily. "He's not handicapped, Leo!" he said heatedly. "Donny's gonna be fine!"

Leonardo glanced at him apologetically. "That might not have been the best way to put it."

"I don't think we should be talking about Don like he's broken," Mike returned. "He's still getting over what happened. That doesn't make him handicapped or stupid."

"That isn't what Leo meant, Mike," Luke said gently.

Mike folded both arms across his chest with a huff and looked at Kelley squarely. "Donatello is strong, Director. He shoulda died, but he didn't. He hung in there when none of us were sure that he would. It hasn't been easy, but he's coming back to us more and more."

He wasn't sure why Leonardo's phrasing of Donatello's condition angered him so much, but he didn't want to accept the label either. _Saying he's handicapped is like saying this is permanent, and he'll never get out of that bed or talk again. _As Mike fumed silently from his chair, understanding suddenly dawned in the back of his mind. _I think part of me is scared that he won't get completely better, that nothing the docs do will be able to fix him._

"Unfortunately, Donatello was on his own for several hours after being attacked," Luke said carefully, eyeing Mike, and then returning to Kelley. "He suffered a severe rise in intracranial pressure, and ended up with a brain injury. His prognosis was very poor to begin with, and we weren't sure if he would even come out of the coma.

"Mike's right; by the numbers, Donatello shouldn't be alive, and he definitely shouldn't be functioning on the mental level that he is. He's still recovering strength and function, but his mind is as sharp as ever, and I think that's the most important thing.

"His speech was also affected, because of a lack of coordination between his breathing and his voice. It also hinders his ability to swallow, so he's kind of living off the IV lines right now," Luke explained.

The look in Kelley's eyes indicated that he was actually concerned, and Mike felt himself softening a little more toward the man.

"I'm not familiar with that condition," Kelley said. "Is there a therapy that can help him to talk again?"

Luke inhaled sharply. "I haven't come across anything yet. I think it's one of those things we have to be patient with. I expect that the condition may very well reverse _itself_. There's nothing wrong with his vocal cords, so there's no reason to think that he'll never speak again."

Rebecca's hand closed comfortingly around Mike's wrist, and he turned to see her. The curly-haired woman's eyes weren't judgmental, but the serenity within them still made him feel bad for biting Leonardo's head off. He gave her a small smile before getting to his feet.

"I'm sorry, Bro," he told Leo. "I know I'm being sensitive about this issue."

The oldest turtle shook his head. "Its okay, Mike. We're all concerned about him."

"I think I'm gonna excuse myself, if it's all the same to you guys," Mike said. "All this talk about Donny makes me wanna go see him."

"That's a good idea," Leonardo replied. "We _all_ need to make more of an effort where Don is concerned. He's feeling a little left out, and he needs to know that we aren't holding out on him."

Mike nodded at Director Kelley. "Nice to see you again," he said evenly, despite not really meaning it.

The orange-masked turtle wanted to see his injured brother, but he was also grateful to escape Kelley's probing eyes. Mike walked into the adjoining Lab, and was met by the sound of soft voices. When he focused on Donny, he realized that his brother was watching something on his tablet.

Mike dropped into a chair and spun it around as he rolled toward his purple-masked brother. "What are you doing, Bro? Not still fussing with the News, are you?"

Donatello shook his head, adjusting the tablet so that Mike could see the screen.

Michelangelo grinned at the sight of a dueling Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom. "Pirates of the Caribbean? Nice."

Donny shrugged, paused the movie, and lined the program down to bring up a text field. _"It's a distraction," _he said. "_I can only handle so much of the News. I thought I heard Leo's voice out there. Did he bring Brandon back?"_

"Oh yeah, Donny. Bran's okay too. He and Raph are probably kissing and making up as I speak."

That got a smile out of Donatello. "_Great, Mikey. Now I'm stuck with that mental image_."

Mike chuckled, but it felt half-hearted.

_"Are _you_ all right?" _Donatello asked, obviously having noticed the lack of usual enthusiasm.

"Yeah, Don. There are just a lot of things to think about. The Akiudo's back, Kelley's sitting right outside that door, and nothing is normal," Mike said glumly.

His brother's gaze became somewhat unfocused. _"I need to be looking for them, but I'm not sure where to start. I suppose the Courier Company would have a record of whoever set up the delivery of that phone to Greg, but I doubt that the Akiudo would have given them real information."_

"You think they'd use a cover?"

Don nodded.

"Well, maybe there's something to track out of the cover," Mike suggested. "It's just like forcing you to walk more steps."

_"I guess," _he typed. "_It's not like I have anything else to do."_

Mike gave him a stern look. "Yes you do, Donny. You're supposed to be concentrating on getting better."

_"I'm trying to do that, Mike, but I have to devote thought to this. The Akiudo are here, and they're not going away. What happened today is probably only the tip of the iceberg. They didn't even make any demands of Greg. Takashi just wanted to make sure we knew he was responsible for it."_

"I don't get it, Bro. Why would Takashi play it like this? He doesn't care about New York City. He's wasting time. _We're _the ones he wants. Why doesn't he just tell us where to go so we can finish this?"

Donatello looked troubled. _"From the conversation that Greg described, it sounds like Takashi wants to torture us first. He _could_ have come right out and demanded that we appear, but he didn't. I think he's probably working up to it, and that could mean a lot of other people getting hurt first."_

Mike stared at the floor. "_Why_ does he have to hurt anyone else?"

_"Takashi wants to do more than catch us, Mike. He wants us to suffer, and he knew that the deaths of innocents would upset us. This is a deliberate move on his part. That's why we can't wait for him to simply reveal himself to us. We've got to act on whatever information is available, to prevent him from hurting or killing anyone else."_

Mike looked up bleakly. "You can't act along with us, Donny. I hate this."

_"No, I can't physically_," he replied. "_But that doesn't count me out completely. I can research and I can hack. I can investigate all kinds of things electronically from here. Lives are depending on this, Mike. We feel a responsibility because he's here looking for us, but it's more than that._

_"We've pledged to protect this city, and we've been there for them through all kinds of small threats and petty crimes. The stakes are higher this time, and the Authorities don't have a clue what's going on. We're the next line of defense. We're the Watchmen. We've looked after as many people as we could through the years. This involves doing the same thing that we always have, on a larger scale."_

"Well…Kelley is in the next room, and he probably knows the Company that delivered the package. I should probably ask him about it. Are you sure you're ready for this, Don?" Mike asked seriously.

_"I'm not sure of anything, Mike. But I don't want to see more people die, do you?"_

Michelangelo shook his head soberly, but then gave his brother a smile. "You may have given rise to a new name."

_"What are you talking about?"_

"Watchmen; it's got a nice ring to it. I think we've kind of grown out of the whole 'Phantom' phase. Time to get a new calling card and leave a different impression."

Donatello gave him a wry smile. "_Whatever you say, Mikey."_


	52. Solution

Leonardo had the feeling that control had left his hands entirely. It had been two days since the attack on the subway and Kelley's introduction to their home, and Greg's momentum seemed to be picking up rapidly. The sandy-haired man was currently receiving directions concerning the use of a flashdrive from Donatello over the tablet.

"It's similar to the one we used in Okinawa," Greg said aloud, as if he'd felt Leonardo's gaze. "All we need to do is get access to a computer inside the Courier Company, and plug Donny's drive into a tower to give him an open window to their information."

"It sounds simple enough." Leo allowed. "It probably won't even be as hard as planting the device at the Police Headquarters in Naha was. Are you guys leaving right now?"

"Soon," Greg said. "It'd be nice if the Company would just cooperate and tell us who set up the delivery, but those stubborn privacy laws…well, you know how it is. This shouldn't be a big deal. Either Sayuri or I will plant the flashdrive, depending on the feel of the situation when we walk in there." Greg looked back at the purple-masked turtle, and Don gave him a thumbs-up.

"So you feel good about this, Heff?" Leo asked.

"It's something we can try," Greg answered. "I can't sit back and do nothing until the Akiudo decide to lay out their terms."

The blue-masked turtle shook his head. "I'm not against anything with this operation, but I'm a little confused. I thought we decided that Kelley was 'in', but you're hiding this from him."

"I still think that the less Kelley knows, the better. I'm _not_ telling him everything we do, Leo. That's like inviting a firestorm," Greg said stubbornly.

"Isn't there an off chance that he can help us?" Leonardo pressed. "He has a lot of connections."

"They come with a price tag. You heard him the other night, Leo. He can only go so far to protect you guys. I'd rather not travel down the road of using his 'connections' unless we have no other choice."

Leonardo shrugged. "Do you have a plan for getting access to a computer inside the Courier Company?"

"We don't know if they're running on a network, so we'll do some surveillance first, and try to figure out where clientele information is being inputted. They have to have _some_ kind of records. Once we locate a terminal, one of us will create the distraction, and the other will hook up Donatello's drive. Then your brother's real research can begin."

Leonardo stole a look at the purple-masked turtle, and saw a familiar gleam in Donatello's eyes. "Seems like you're down with all of this, Bro." Donny nodded eagerly, making Leonardo smile. "I get it; you've got all this brain-power with nowhere to go, right?"

Donatello smiled in response, but it was strained. Leonardo knew he was probably still stewing over the results of a family meeting from the night before, when Victoria's suggestion had rocked the room.

"I'm going to head out, Donny." Greg's voice cut in to Leonardo's thoughts. "I'll get in touch with you soon, and I'll _definitely_ let you know when the drive is active."

Don nodded and waved the man out of the room. Leonardo picked up the spare tablet that Greg had left behind, and slid into the chair beside his brother.

"What's going through your head?" he asked.

Donatello looked down briefly before responding. "_I wish Jen was going with the other girls. I'm not dying, but she still feels like she has to protect me."_

Leo nodded with understanding. Victoria had announced that she felt like it was time to leave the city, and he'd jumped at the opportunity to encourage their wives and friends to go along with the plan. It had riled up an argument, and the battle had only been a partial success.

All of their wives had agreed to go with the exception of Jenna, who was adamant about staying with Donatello. Karina and Rebecca had been easier to convince. _The responsibility to protect Liv and Nate falls heavily on their shoulders, and I'm sure it provided most of the incentive._

April had agreed to go too and Sayuri was sending Hisui and Shunshi, but the rest of the extended clan wasn't budging. Leonardo hadn't expected any of their medical staff to be willing to leave their posts, but he'd believed that Katherine could be swayed by Reina. He was wrong. In the little girl's case, both parents were insisting on staying behind to face whatever storm was coming.

_The other women can handle Reina; she certainly knows everyone, but still…I wish Kat was going. Jenna too. _Yet the fact that the others had finally agreed to take their safety more seriously was still an encouraging one.

"You picked a girl with a strong will," he told Donatello.

_"We all did, Leo. Hopefully we can track the Akiudo down, and you guys can end this once and for all," _Donatello said. _"I wish Greg would include Kelley too. We need all the help we can get."_

"I agree, but I'm not in a place where I feel comfortable talking to his boss behind his back either."

Don was still for a moment, then—"_Have the girls mentioned when they're heading for Lotus Salvus?"_

"Victoria didn't seem interested in wasting any time. Packing is in full swing, so I guess they'll probably get on the road tomorrow."

His brother's eyes were concerned. "_I hope this is the right thing for Olivia and Nate. I mean, they'll be safer if they're not here, but the thought of the open road scares me. That, and Shunshi is furious. Hisui says he won't talk to anyone, and I'm sure that includes me."_

Leonardo shook his head. "It's difficult to stress the true measure of the danger to Shun. If the Akiudo was to get wind that he and his sister were here, it could be disastrous. I think this is the right move, even if it doesn't make everyone happy."

Donatello cocked his head thoughtfully. "_Do you wish that you could ship me off along with them?"_

"Part of me would like to, yes, and Brandon too. But he's still technically undecided on the issue."

_"He's going to need to make a choice pretty soon here, isn't he?"_

Leo took a sharp breath. "Brandon agreed to go to the surface with Greg and Sayuri this afternoon. I think he wants to spend a little time inside the real world before he decides to leave the city behind."

"_Lotus Salvus would be good for him_," Don said. _"I hope he decides to go with the girls. Getting out of New York might be just what he needs."_

"Maybe," Leo replied. "I know he isn't planning on doing this small mission with them today. He made that very clear to me earlier, with some comment about his nerves being shot."

"_Are he and Raph acting normal_?"

The blue-masked turtle shrugged. "Determining what's 'normal' for Bran right now is complicated. I think they're fine, Don. They've both got tempers, but they also get over things."

His younger brother nodded. _"What are the _rest_ of those staying behind going to do to protect themselves?"_

"They're going to continue giving Greg and Brandon's place a wide berth, because we know that's the first place the Akiudo would probably look for them, due to the FBI connections. They can all stay down here as far as I'm concerned, but I think they'll probably end up using Marc and April's apartment as a hub too. It's the closest to the action."

_"I guess that can't be helped. There are still things they need to do on the surface, like find information on who sent Greg that phone."_

"_You're_ covering that part, aren't you?" Leo grinned suddenly.

_"I'll do my best, but Heff and Sayuri have to get me inside the system first."_

"I think between the two of them, they can pull it off," he replied confidently.

* * *

><p>Leonardo's fingers grazed the hilt of one of his blades as he exited the Lab. He surveyed the living area silently, staring at the packed bags that were already waiting in the room. <em>Another year, another exodus. But it's different this time. We're separating, which makes me both relieved <em>and_ disappointed. I want them out of harm's way, but I don't want to be cut off from our family. We can't do both._

He glanced over as he heard footsteps, and saw Raphael trotting downstairs with Olivia in his arms. His red-masked brother gave him a nod as he seemed to be heading for the kitchen, but Leonardo wasn't going to let him get by that easily. Raphael hadn't said a word about the girls leaving, and he didn't want that to continue.

"Raph, can we talk?"

His brother's forehead creased, but he changed directions to go toward the couch. Raphael set the baby turtle on the floor beside her ride-on train before sitting down. Olivia immediately climbed onto the toy and began pushing herself around the room.

"What's up, Fearless?"

"You know what's up," Leonardo said quietly. "I'm sure you've talked to Karina in private, but I'd like you to talk to me too."

Raphael shrugged. "What is there to say, Leo? We're all up in arms because of that attack on the subway. Something even bigger could be coming next. I don't want them within a hundred miles of the city."

"That doesn't mean you're happy that they're leaving."

"It is what it is, Leo. We've gotta job to do here, and we have to get it done. Their job is to look after the kids and themselves." Raphael sent a bleak look in Olivia's direction. "I'm glad her and Nate are little so that they don't understand any of this, but I don't want her to think I abandoned her."

"Raph, Karina won't let Olivia believe that."

His brother's amber eyes appeared to be darkening. "The thing is…" he started, and paused. "The thing is, I've got this fear that I might not see them again. I've already had the thought that I wouldn't mind dying if I could take the Akiudo out with me, but now that it might come to that…I feel awful. I don't wanna leave Olivia behind, Leo."

Leonardo scooted closer to him on the couch. "She's your baby, Bro. You're not _supposed_ to want to leave her. We simply have to do everything in our power to take the Akiudo down, without getting ourselves killed in the process."

"That's the trick, Leo." Raphael sighed, and his gaze tracked Olivia as she rolled across the floor on her train. "Kari won't say it out loud, but I know she wishes we were coming with them. I think they all do."

Leonardo rested his head against the back of the couch. "I wish we _could_ run. I wish that we could disappear to a safe distance, and get some time to analyze what the Akiudo is up to. But even if we leave, they aren't going to stop. They already carried out one attack, and I'm _positive_ that they'll do it again."

Raphael growled. "When I get my hands on them, they're gonna be sorry that they ever set foot on this continent."

Leonardo nodded in agreement, even as he had to jerk his legs out of the way of Olivia's train. His brother reached down to scoop his daughter off the toy, and cuddled the little girl close.

"This is going to be hard on you, isn't it?" Leo asked.

"It's gonna be hard on all of us," he said gruffly, but a small smile appeared when Olivia threw both arms tightly around his neck. "That's a killer grip ya got there, Kid."

Leo chuckled. "One of these days, she'll learn her own strength."

Liv reached up to grasp the tails of Raphael's bandana. Unlike her cousin, who had a penchant for yanking on the masks whenever she had the opportunity, Olivia was usually satisfied with just touching the soft material.

"She's gonna want one of her own," Raphael suggested.

Leonardo smiled. "Have you given any thought to color?"

"I dunno. I figured she could start with red, and change up the color later if she wanted to." Raphael took a shaky breath as he cupped the baby turtle's cheek. "You're gonna be good for your Mama, Kouen, or you'll be getting some stern phone calls from me."

Leo tried not to laugh out loud. He'd never heard Raphael raise his voice to the baby, and he didn't believe his brother would be able to punish her from long distance either.

As Olivia's fingers continued grasping the end of his mask, Raphael slipped it off to let her have it. "Here, Kid. You can have this one."

"It'll be a little big for her," Leo pointed out impishly.

"She don't have to wear it," Raphael said. "I just like the thought of her keeping it."

Leonardo looked away as his brother hugged Olivia. _This is going to be even harder than I thought._


	53. Cover

Donatello never imagined that he would be grateful for something as mind-numbingly boring as browsing through electronic invoices. After the text from Greg that had confirmed the flashdrive was in position, the turtle had swapped out the tablet for his regular laptop. The computer was set up on the tray in front of him because of its cumbersome weight, but it still felt like returning to an old friend.

The flashdrive with which he'd equipped Greg possessed a program that operated like a worm, which Donny could use to get the inside access to the Courier Company's network. After finding his bearings within the system, he immediately began combing through invoices that were marked for the day in question.

So far, nothing had stood out to him. The purple-masked turtle had already scanned through dozens of invoices from the day of the delivery, but found nothing that indicated either a package involving a cell phone, or a drop at the FBI Field Office. When skimming didn't reveal anything pertinent, he began reading the reports more closely.

_I wonder if they could have convinced the Company to make the delivery off the books. But it seems like that would raise a lot of suspicion, and the Akiudo wouldn't want the attention. Maybe they contacted one of the drivers independently, and offered them the side job for a payout. That seems like the most secure scenario for them to remain invisible. I hope they didn't do it, _he thought ruefully.

_Well…no one said they had to set it up the day it went out either. It could have been prepared in advance. It makes more sense for me to take a look back before I give up any hope of finding information._

Luke had hovered nearby in the Lab for a while, until Donatello diplomatically sent him away. He wasn't in the habit of asking people to leave the room, but he had work to do, and he needed to concentrate.

Tuesday proved to have had a more heavily scheduled workload than the Wednesday he'd _been_ investigating, and the turtle immediately felt a little bogged down. He pushed through it, skimming page after page until the text was starting to become blurry. That was when he decided that it was time to stop reading for a few minutes.

Donatello groaned inwardly. _What I wouldn't give for some caffeine. I wonder if that's something they could set up through the IV line_, he thought impishly. _Then Doc could _really_ accuse me of being a coffee junkie._

He started to reach for the remote that would summon someone to the room, but then took his hand off the button. _No, if I call somebody now, Doc is going to make me quit entirely for a couple of hours. I don't want to give in. I just need to rest my eyes for a bit._

Don actually felt like he was close to nodding off, when a sound from the door made his head jerk to attention. The guilty look he received from the red-masked turtle indicated that Raphael _knew_ he'd disturbed him. Donny waved at him, motioning his brother to come further into the room.

"I don't need to be here, Genius," Raphael said. "You ought to be resting."

He shook his head, and pointed at the other tablet for Raphael to pick it up. Donatello closed the lid of his laptop, and hit the button to bring his tablet back online.

_"Hey, Raph. I wasn't trying to sleep – I've just been reading a lot of text, and I was giving my eyes a break."_

His brother looked concerned for a moment, but was quick to try and hide it. "That makes sense. You gotta take breaks when you need them, Bro."

_"I am. Have you heard anything from Brandon?"_

Raphael heaved a sigh. "He's not too happy, Donny. It's been raining pretty hard up there. He's trying to stay calm, but it's freaking him out at the same time."

Donatello nodded. "_I've heard about that type of aversion existing for someone who's been waterboarded. There are more triggers than you think, and none of them have to be rational. Brandon knows deep down that the rain won't hurt him, but he can't control his psychological reaction to it."_

"I don't think he's gonna be able to leave the city, Don," Raphael said. "He's already telling me he wants to come back underground. Now me personally, I'd like to tell Heff and Tim to just tie him up and throw him in one of the cars with the girls. Yeah, Bran would be mad, but he'd get over it eventually."

"_Do you think it's possible that _we're_ the ones he doesn't want to leave, Raph?" _Don suggested. _"I'm sure fear factors into it, but he could have other motivation in the mix too. Leonardo said he got pretty emotional talking to him in the tunnel the other night, and he was fairly certain it made an impact on Brandon. He could be stubbornly holding out because of _us_."_

"I hope that's not the case, Donny. I sure ain't letting him get anywhere close to the action, not with what he's already been through. Do you remember that trigger I told you came up in that battle we had with the Akiudo in Luke's old house in Chelsea? That was what gave Yukiko the chance to take me down. I'm not letting that happen to Bran, no matter what he says."

"_I think you're getting ahead of us_," Don typed. _"We have to find them before we can attack them. Well, before _you_ can attack them."_

The red-masked turtle grimaced. "We'll take 'em down hard for you, Donny."

_"I'm more concerned about the safety of the city at this point," _he said. _"Remember, that needs to be your focus. Revenge won't satisfy you."_

Raphael made a scoffing sound. "I don't know if that's true in the case of Yukiko or Takashi."

Donatello shook his head. "_Don't forget who we are, Raph. We're not animals. We're masters of our bodies and the environment. Whenever you lose control, you're giving it up to someone else."_

Raphael's eyes remained hard for a few seconds. "I'm good with all of that, Donny, but I'm not gonna give those scumbags the chance to hurt anyone else."

"_I know that it's easy to feel like all of this is our fault, Raph," _Don said. "_But don't forget to think things through. When we feel this desperate, it means we might do things we wouldn't normally risk. You've got a wife and baby depending on you, besides the rest of us. I'm not trying to put extra pressure on you. I just want to remind you that we care about what happens to you, and not only about stopping the Akiudo."_

Raphael nodded firmly. "We'll be acting together, whatever we end up doing, Don. Leo and I already had this talk. There won't be any kamikaze missions or working alone.

_Good, _Donatello thought with an inward sigh. _"I wish I could be up there with you," _he told him. "_This is a crummy time to be sidelined."_

"I know just how you feel, Don. I've never forgotten what it was like to watch you, Leo, and Bran prepare to go after the Akiudo to save Mikey and our girls. That was one of the hardest things ever."

Donny peered at his brother for a long moment before asking his question. "_Will you be okay with them leaving?"_

Raphael chuckled. "I think you and Leo must be sharing brain waves or something. They're doing the right thing by leaving, and I'm glad they're going back to North Carolina. I'd just like some assurance that I'm gonna see them again."

_"Let's try and be positive, Raph, and hold onto the belief that we _will._" _Donatello looked down at his laptop. "_I think I'm ready to dive back into this, Bro."_

"That's my cue to scram, isn't it?"

Donatello wished he could laugh. _"It's easier to work without distractions."_

Raphael smirked at him. "Whatever. I know when I'm not wanted."

"_You're _always_ wanted, Raph_."

"Then I'll catch up with you later, Don, and I'll keep the 'resting your eyes' episode to myself."

"_Would you_?" he asked hopefully. "_I really need to get through the material."_

"Yep, but you'd better believe I'll be checking up on you."

Donatello smiled as his brother made his exit, and set aside the tablet to focus on his laptop. _Okay. Back to it. Tuesday didn't look any more promising than Wednesday at first glance. I guess it wouldn't hurt to flip back one more day before I start breaking down the reports completely._

He clicked out of the date he'd been viewing, and brought up the schedule for Monday. Don began scanning through the names first as was his custom, and this time, something stood out to him off the bat. _Atesaki. That's definitely Japanese. _His brow furrowed in thought. _Destination. That's interesting. Who is this person? Um…_

There was no information accompanying the name, with the exception of a telephone number. Donatello ignored the number for the moment, and focused on the details of the delivery instead. _Let's see…it was set up on a time delay. Package set to go out Wednesday. The timeline fits, but it's still circumstantial. I need something that ties this customer to that phone._

As he considered the invoice, another thought occurred to him. _Maybe I'm looking for information in the wrong place. It was addressed to Greg, so he should be a part of the order in some fashion. _Donatello skipped past the customer information, and clicked on the link labeled as the summary. His eyes widened as they landed upon the note that had been included with the order, and his heart-rate increased at the discovery of Greg's full name.

_So this is it. The question is whether or not "Atesaki" is just a cover they were using. Could that phone number really lead somewhere? It feels too easy. But there's only one way to find out._

He reached for the phone sitting in the corner of his tray, and dialed the listed number in the customer details. _This feels stupid, _he thought as it rang. _As if someone with the Akiudo would actually give this company their real number—_

_"You have reached the Atesaki Asia Travel Agency. Our business hours are—"_

The turtle quickly hung up the phone. _A Travel Agency? Didn't see that one coming. Weird. Time to talk to Heff. _He put down the phone and grabbed the remote with the call button. He'd no sooner sent the signal, than Leonardo stuck his head in the door.

"Hey, Don. Are you getting somewhere?"

Donatello nodded.

"Do you need to talk to Greg?"

He nodded a second time.

"I'll grab him and come right back."

He relaxed more heavily against the back of the bed and picked up the tablet, pushing the larger tray out of the way. The sandy-haired man appeared a few seconds later, and Leonardo entered the room with him.

"What's up, Donny? Do we have any leads?" Greg held the spare tablet between himself and Leonardo.

"_Yes_," Don answered. "_I don't know how reliable the information is, but I found the customer that's connected to your delivery, Heff. It was arranged on Monday, so it was all planned in advance. The order was placed by an Asian Travel Agency."_

Leo looked up from the screen. "Interesting. Do you think it's a real place, or could it be bogus?"

"_The phone number came up as a business line, but Greg would have to physically track down the address to be sure,"_

"But this is definitely the connection?" Greg verified.

_"I'm sure," _Don said. _"I worked my way backwards from Wednesday, and the Asian name of the Agency stopped me in my tracks. When I read the summary, it listed you as the delivery recipient."_

The man nodded. "In other words, we have another building to check out."

"Yeah, but maybe you don't need to do this one alone," Leonardo said thoughtfully. "The Akiudo might just be using this Company's name, but it could be something more sinister too."

"I'll figure out if the Business exists, and then we can worry about getting inside," Greg returned.

"I don't want you doing anything but a drive by without us, Greg," Leo said decisively. "I'd prefer to do this properly."

"Properly?" The man's eyebrows rose. "What are you saying, Leo? You think Sayuri and I will screw this up?"

"That's not what I said, Heff," Leonardo said patiently. "I'm feeling paranoid where this gang is concerned. Sayuri had information conveniently leaked to her before, if you recall. They set up that Lab, and both you and she would have been goners if Don hadn't been there to spring you.

"I'm not saying I don't trust you to do it correctly. I'm suggesting that I'd prefer to do things as a _team_, based on the track record of who we're going up against."

Greg gave him a wry smile. "You say 'suggest', as if I'm being given a choice in the matter."

"You aren't," Leo said bluntly. "Let's make sure it exists, and we can determine where we go from there."


	54. Travel Agency

Leonardo felt skittish as he waited in the back of the Battleshell for the signal from Greg that they could make their move. He hadn't been pleased with the news that a cleaning crew was currently inside the closed Travel Agency. The blue-masked turtle was tempted to call off the entire operation for the night, but he honestly didn't want to wait another full 24 hours before getting inside.

_Every day that passes is making me more nervous. Takashi said he wanted to take some time to get to "know" the city. I don't know what that means, and I don't want to sit back until the Akiudo takes another shot at innocent people. We've got to act on the information we have._

Greg had confirmed that the Agency existed earlier that day, and had performed some preliminary surveillance on the grounds with Kat and Sayuri. They'd been able to determine that Atesaki was running a real operation, and that it wasn't a mere front that the gang was hiding behind.

The next logical step had been to try to get access to a computer, but Leonardo had asked them to lay off the "distraction" tactic. _I think coming back after hours was the right thing to do, so we can get a more thorough look around. Shell, I know Greg thinks we can pull one over on just about anybody, but we don't know what kind of role this Company might have in connection with the Akiudo! _

_HijutoChem was a separate Company that they only employed for their services, but the gang _still_ managed to use the facility to set a trap. I'm not convinced that this Agency is clear of any wrong-doing, and we're not going to be until we can get a closer look behind the scenes._

Leonardo sighed as he gazed out the back window. The operation was serving as a partial distraction from the fact that the girls had left earlier that day, but his thoughts still drifted back to them. He was grateful that they were on their way to Lotus Salvus; he only prayed that the journey would go smoothly with Olivia and Nate.

The rain had been falling heavily on the roof above them for several minutes. _I don't understand why it has to rain for days at a time. We go weeks with hardly any rain, and then it decides to just pour for three days straight. Go figure. But maybe seeing and hearing it will help acclimate Brandon's mind, and remind him that there's nothing to fear. I wish he would have gone with the girls, but it was his choice._

Leonardo's mind drifted from his friend back to his wife. He'd sensed Calley's nerves sharply at their parting, and he could feel the woman's inner turmoil in taking the step to which she'd agreed.

"_Promise me," _she'd said for the third time that day. _"Promise me that you'll stay together and stand together."_

Leonardo had reassured her as strongly as he could. He didn't want the group separating into individual factions any more than she did. _Calley always seems to see straight to the heart of things. I miss her already, but this can't be helped. It's the right thing for them, and we've got to encourage the rest of our friends to get underground too. It's just not worth the risk of being tracked down by the Akiudo._

The blue-masked turtle's phone buzzed, breaking him out of reverie. He noticed his brothers' heads snap to attention as he answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Leo. A temporary window might have opened up for us," Greg said. "We just watched three people leave the Agency. They left the gate up, and there are still lights on inside, so they're probably not done for the night. It's possible that they service the entire building, and not only the storefront."

"But you can't see anyone inside?"

"Not from my vantage point. I'm waiting to hear from your brother again. The security system for the doors was activated, and he's watching the motion sensors too. Donny and I have been texting back and forth for a couple of minutes."

The humans' research on the facility earlier in the day had included discovering the monitoring company that serviced the Agency, and Donatello had taken the initiative of cutting into the feed.

"Either way, it sounds like they're coming back," Leonardo muttered. He wasn't thrilled with the situation.

"True, but you guys have never had a problem disappearing before, and there's more than one way out. I think we should give Don a little more time to watch the motion sensors for disturbances; that, or come back tomorrow when this crew won't be an issue."

Leonardo grunted in irritation. _Are we supposed to be scared off by the possibility of a few cleaning girls coming back sooner than we prepared for? We're here now, and there's no sense in wasting another day. We can handle this. We've broken into some of the most locked down places on Earth. If we can't pull this off, we have no business going after the Akiudo._

"Disappearing shouldn't be an issue if we have to do it quickly, " Leonardo agreed. "Kat and Tim are watching our shells, right? They'll be able to tell us if anyone is coming."

"I'm gonna take another look around while I'm waiting to hear from Don. I think Sayuri and I should double-check our entrance point."

"Stay alert," Leo reminded him, before hanging up the phone.

"What's up, Leo?" Raph wanted to know at once.

"We're waiting a bit longer," he announced. "They saw the cleaning crew head out, but the building hasn't been closed up for the night. They're probably coming back."

"Then why are we waiting?" Mike wondered.

"Because there are uncertainties," Leonardo supplied. "Heff told me earlier that their monitoring system is pretty primitive, and there are only a couple of camera views and motion sensors in the main part of the store front. Don's watching to make sure no one else is around, and _then_ we'll make our move."

Raphael rolled his eyes. "Brother. I'm so sick of sitting here."

"You're impatient, Raph? I never woulda known." Mike grinned.

"Look who's talking, shell-head," he shot back.

Leonardo shook his head. "Can we please wait in peace? It shouldn't take much longer." _At least I hope not_, he added inwardly. _I'm not going to complain in front of them, but I'm ready to get in there too._ He was also itching to call Calley, but he figured it was better to focus on business first. _C'mon, Don, text us already. We're dying back here._

He spent a couple more minutes trying to breathe in the calm and banish the anxiety that was lingering over the thought of his family driving on the open road to North Carolina. Roughly ten minutes passed before he got the desired message from his younger brother.

"_I'm not getting anything off the motion detectors in the storefront. It looks safe from where I am. Heff told me he wasn't going to have anyone use the doors, but I can still kill the alarm to be safe. Just give me the word."_

Leonardo slowly typed his response for Donatello to flip the switch, then looked up at his brothers.

"What'd he say, Leo?" Mike asked.

"We're going," he answered, yanking up the hood of his sweatshirt. His phone rang before he could make another move, and it turned out to be Greg. "How does it look out there?" he asked.

"It's quiet on the street. I think the rain drives people indoors."

"No complaints from me. Do we have our way in?"

"I chose a window around the right side of the building. We're waiting for you. Sayuri and I won't do anything until you get here. Kat and Tim are holding their position as lookouts."

"We'll meet you over there." Leonardo hung up the phone, and peered out of the back end onto the rain-drenched street. He could smell the harbor in the air the moment he stuck his head outside. The storefront they were going to search was only a couple of miles away from what were usually bustling docks.

He could see Greg's dark green Jeep Liberty halfway down the block from where the Battleshell was parked. Across the street, Luke's Volvo looked dark and empty, but he knew Kat and Tim were holed up watching too.

The rain didn't take long to saturate through their civilian clothes as they silently headed around the building, and Leonardo hated the sense of being weighed down by the gear. He would have preferred to not wear anything, but he kept his mouth shut about it. Leo shook his head at the sight of a soaked Greg and Sayuri, who'd already spent a fair amount of time exposed to the elements.

Greg ignored Leo's sympathetic look and motioned to a window that appeared to lead to an office. "I think we ought to break it, and worry about reimbursing them later."

Leonardo nodded in agreement. Destruction of private property wasn't something they relished, but from time to time, a mission required it. The turtles were adamant about making amends in those cases. He watched as Greg withdrew a glass cutter.

"This will be quieter, and it won't take long," he explained.

Leo nodded again, pointing for his brothers to stay put while Greg got them inside the building. Raphael quickly tired of the careful precision with which the man was working.

"Shell, if we go any slower, we'll be moving backwards," Raphael complained. "Isn't that crew coming back?"

Greg shot him a look. "I almost have it. Excuse me for not wanting to attract attention."

The red-masked turtle shrugged. "Getting caught out here because we took too long to get in won't make things any better."

"Raph, can it!" Leonardo ordered softly. _Now isn't the time to have this argument._

Leonardo came forward to help Greg as the man got the pane loose, and they set it down on the ground without shattering it.

"Go ahead, Leo," Greg urged him.

Leonardo carefully maneuvered his hands around the remaining sharp edges, and tucked his head to get through the window. He took in the sight of the darkened room, before looking out at the alley. "C'mon in, guys. Keep it down and watch your step. We're dealing with a limited amount of room inside the office."

He stepped out into the narrow hall to make more room for them to get inside, and watched Greg climb through the window. The man's leap was anything but graceful, but he didn't cut himself in the process, and the turtle was thankful for that. Sayuri came after him, and both humans slipped out to join him in the hall.

The size of the next dark shape that flipped through the window looked like Raphael. Leonardo turned to Greg and was about to ask him where their search was going to begin, when he heard a small crash come from the room.

"_Shell_, Mikey, are you trying to sabotage us here?" Raphael complained.

"It was an accident. You could have told me that the desk was there!" the orange-masked turtle returned.

"You couldn't see it with them big blue eyes of yours?" Raphael scoffed. "Fearless said there wasn't much room to maneuver; you can't go blaming your clumsiness on someone else."

Leonardo released an irritated breath. "You guys, save the fight for later," he hissed. "We have work to do right now, and a limited time to accomplish it in." He looked at Greg. "What are we searching for?"

"I don't really know, Leo. I figured we'd have more time to pace ourselves, but now that we're constrained, all I can think to do is to start copying hard drives."

The squeal of a door came from a few feet away, catching Leonardo unprepared. In the blink of an eye, a shaggy head of hair was peeking around the open door, too quickly for the turtle to dart out of the way.

It was one of the most unexpected sensations of being cornered that Leo had ever felt. He heard Greg swear in the background, but he was too busy gazing back at the interesting-looking figure staring at _him_ to say anything.

The unique hair which had first given her away appeared almost _white_ from where he was standing, though the face looking back at him was young and unlined. Choppy black and red highlights were interspersed through the hairstyle. Heavy black eyeliner accentuated ghostly grey eyes that looked like they were trapped in a car's headlights. The ripped blue jeans and t-shirt that barely covered her midriff completed the strange ensemble.

Leonardo opened his mouth to break the spell over both of them and to assure the stranger that he wasn't going to hurt her, right before his brothers passed into the hall.

"Are we just gonna stand here all night, Leo, or are we—" Raphael's voice cut off when he got a look at their watcher, and the young woman's scream filled up the silence he left behind.


	55. Jazz

***I have been _waiting_ for this moment since the beginning of Watchmen, and a description truly doesn't do this girl justice. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and that's definitely true in her case. Look up my Facebook account under "Sarah Ochsenbein" if you'd like to meet Jazz properly.**

* * *

><p>"Jazz" Stewart could recall screaming several times in her life, both from elation and from anger. But she'd never before experienced fear that caused her larynx to feel like it was being torn out of her throat from the violence with which she shrieked at the top of her lungs.<p>

The crash that had come from down the hall had caught the young woman's attention, drawing her away from the guilty pleasure she'd been enjoying in using the forbidden computer. It was for that reason that she didn't mind letting the rest of the cleaning crew take a longer break, while she continued to "work" on her own.

When she'd heard the bang Jazz had expected to find a member of her team who'd forgotten something, or God _forbid_ caught on to the fact that she enjoyed jumping on the computers in any building they were cleaning at the first opportunity.

What Jazz had found outside the door was so shocking that she immediately froze up. The green-faced stranger that stared back at her looked just as surprised to see her, though she didn't feel like he had that right. She'd still been trying to wrap her head around the apparition when two more appeared that looked like the first.

When the red-masked one spoke, it sent the young woman hurtling over the edge of all the reason to which she'd been clinging. A loud cry had leaped to her mouth before she even took time to think about it.

"Aw, _shell_; she's a screamer." The speaker seemed to be under the impression that _she_ was the one who didn't belong here.

Jazz suddenly remembered that she was capable of moving, and backpedaled into the office she'd just exited, slamming the door behind her. When she reached for the doorknob, the young woman immediately cursed. The door wouldn't lock without a key, and she'd left _hers_ on the cart down the hall.

Jazz pressed up against the door, as though she had some kind of hope of being able to keep the others out of the room until help could arrive. With shaky hands she searched for her cell phone which should have been inside her pocket, as she continued wedging herself against the door. Before she could locate the phone in her frazzled state, the door was pushing inward against her weight.

"No!" she yelled uselessly. "Leave me alone! Take whatever you want, and get out!"

The door was ripped from her grasp, and Jazz backed up a second time, running into the large desk. She was still searching her deepest pocket for her phone when a man and an Asian woman appeared at the doorframe. She was relieved to see the humans instead of the strange creatures, but she could still hear other voices in the hall, including the heavy accent that was going to haunt her nightmares for years to come.

Another scream bubbled up inside her throat as the man and woman blocked the doorway with concerned expressions plastered across their faces. _I know what that look is for! It's the "how are we supposed to get rid of her quietly" look!_

The man held up his arms in what appeared to be surrender, but all the motion did was reveal the firearm holstered under his jacket. "Hold on," he urged as he took another step into the room. "Hold on just a second. We're not going to hurt you! Please don't scream again."

_Well, since you asked so nicely—"_Stay away from me!" she shouted more hoarsely than before. Her fingers had finally closed around her cell phone, and she jerked it out of her pocket without thinking.

"No!" the man insisted, darting toward her.

Jazz threw an arm over her face as she expected an attack, but all the stranger did was take the phone out of her other hand.

"_Listen_," he said emphatically. "Listen to me! We're not going to hurt you. I'll even give you your phone back, but not yet. If you yell again, I'm going to have to gag you. I'm sorry."

"You're _sorry_?" she asked incredulously. "What are you doing here? What do you _want_?"

"We don't want _you_," the Asian woman spoke up behind him. "We didn't realize that you were here, else we would not have come."

"Those, those _things_-" Jazz stumbled.

"They're not things," the man interrupted firmly. "And you _never_ saw them."

He grasped her wrist tightly as he emphasized his point and Jazz whimpered reflexively.

"Greg-chan," the other woman's voice cut through her fear. "_Don't_. This girl is not our enemy. She's innocent."

"Maybe she is," he allowed. "But we can't let her call the cops down on this place with the guys inside. Speaking of which…"

The man walked across the room back toward the hall, tugging Jazz along with him. "What are you still doing here, Leo? I told you to get moving!"

She caught her breath as her captor addressed the creatures, and the one in blue folded his arms defiantly.

"It's a little late for that, isn't it? She's not going to forget we were here just because we disappear. We have to get this done, Greg! Now that she's seen us, we probably won't get another chance!" The hard look in the speaker's eyes indicated that he wasn't accustomed to taking orders from someone else. The authority in his tone suggested he was more apt to be _giving_ them.

"Well then _you_ guys are going to have to watch her so that Sayuri and I can handle the flashdrives!" The man gave in after a brief stand-off.

Jazz dragged her feet with another whimper as she was pulled out of the office. She expected one of the things would hold her down the way the man had, but the three strangers merely formed a semi-circle instead. She scanned between their faces, surprised by the extremely _human_ emotions she could see in their eyes, ranging from anxiety to irritation and open curiosity.

"Sit down please," the blue-masked one requested.

"I'm not—" Her voice was little more than a squeak.

"Sit down," he repeated. "You're not going to be hurt. I'm sorry that we frightened you; that wasn't our intention."

"Why are you _here_?" Jazz was grateful when she was capable of forcing a hint of indignation, as she gave in to sinking to the floor.

"We're looking for evidence that some very bad people may have left behind," the speaker said calmly. "We'll be out of your hair soon, and I promise you won't see us again."

Jazz eyed the other two. "If you don't want to hurt me, then why don't you give me back my phone, or at least let me leave?"

"Because we've gotta protect _ourselves_ too, Kid, that's why," the red one proclaimed.

"Do I look like a kid to you?" Annoyance grounded her with more boldness.

"Just keep your mouth shut and we'll be gone soon, just like my bro said," he retorted.

"Bro?" As Jazz jerked to get to her feet, she was struck by the way all of them stiffened, and decided to stay on the floor. _I'm not going to tempt them into attacking me. _"What do you expect to find here?" she asked. "If you're looking for a cheaper hotel rate, there are websites for that kind of thing."

"It don't matter what we're looking for," the red-masked one said flatly. "We'll leave you alone in a couple of minutes."

"Are you really gonna let me go?" Jazz barely dared to ask.

"Does it seem like we want to do something to you?" the blue one asked. "We would have done it already."

"That's right, we're the good guys," the orange one chipped in so cheerfully that Jazz gave him a double-take.

"You're what?"

"The good guys, the avengers of evil, the turtle—"

Jazz gasped sharply when the red one's hand flashed out, but he only tapped his brother across the back of the head.

"Shut it, Mikey, we ain't making friends here," he proclaimed.

_Turtles_, she said to herself. _He said turtles! But that doesn't make any sense. They're talking, thinking, and emoting like human beings! _Jazz swallowed deeply. "Where did you come from?"

"Nowhere," Red said maddeningly. "And when we leave, you ain't gonna find us."

"What makes you think I want to?" she demanded with a huff. "You guys are acting like _I'm_ the dangerous one! I haven't even done anything! You broke in here, you're holding me against my will, and that makes _me_ the bad guy?" Arguing was one of the few things Jazz thought she was still good at, but she felt like a lot of the wind had already been stolen from her sails. _I'd be satisfied to know that I can get out of this alive. _

The longer she had been in the presence of the…turtles, the more comfortable she felt to take in a little more detail about them. Underneath wet clothes she could make out some of their muscular frames, and the odd-looking weapons that at least two of them carried. She couldn't tell if the blue-masked one was armed, and it made her feel more wary of him.

"We're not trying to make you feel like the bad guy," the ever-calm turtle said, bending to her level. "But we have to get the information we came for. There are too many lives at stake."

She stared at him with the vague feeling that he was delusional. "This is a _Travel Agency_," Jazz pronounced carefully. "What do you think you're gonna find besides reservations and vacation documents?"

"You'd be surprised," he said evenly. "Hang tight a little longer, and you won't have to deal with us anymore."

"You're not gonna kill me?" Jazz couldn't quite believe that they were going to let her go.

"Didn't we say that already?" Red inserted. "You asked what we're doing here, but do ya mind if I ask the same question? Them motion detectors didn't pick up anyone in the building."

Jazz laughed in spite of herself. "Those cheap things barely cover the storefront – they don't even extend to the offices! I was working back here, with my cart," she added, suddenly feeling flustered at nearly being seen breaking the law. She never allowed anyone to spy her in the act of touching a computer, not when her freedom depended on it.

_I've gotten lax, lulled into a false sense of security. I've got to be more careful, that is, if I get the chance!_

"So you're with the cleaning crew," Blue offered.

Jazz nodded. "They'll be back soon. Anytime," she lied through her teeth. This particular team enjoyed drinking on their breaks, which was part of the reason she _stayed_ with the group. The longer they were gone, the more time she had to use a computer.

"Why didn't you go with them?" the suspicious one demanded. "You didn't look like you were doing your job when we got here. You looked like you got _caught_."

"Why do you have to give her the third degree, Raph?" the orange one challenged. "Isn't it bad enough that we're scaring the living daylights out of her?"

_If this is some "good cop/bad cop routine, its pretty lame. I wish they'd all shut up and leave me alone._

"I'm not the one who broke in!" she said defensively. "This is my job. You guys don't belong here!"

"We apologize for interrupting you," the blue-masked one suddenly sounded formal.

_Good night, these guys are weird. They couldn't be more different from each other, no matter how much they look alike. I just hope they'll actually let me go. I have to call the cops if there was a break-in, but what am I going to say? Some funky-looking turtles held me against my will, while their human counterparts ransacked the computers? Yeah, that's believable. I've already got the strike against me, and no cop has ever taken me seriously. I'd be better off removing any evidence that they were here. God knows I'll end up getting blamed for it._

"We're done, Leo," she heard the man call. "I think we ought to leave the same way we came in."

The blue-masked turtle nodded. "But then there's the question of this young lady," he said gently. "Where's her phone, Heff?"

"I still have it, and she's not getting it back yet. I want to talk to her first."

"Greg, I don't think we should press our luck by wasting any more time in here," "Leo" argued.

"We won't talk inside," the man replied.

Jazz immediately flattened against the floor as he reached toward her, now feeling more fear over Greg than she had toward the turtle who'd had yet to lay a hand on her.

"Please get up," the man requested. "I won't take up much of your time. I just need to talk to you, and I have a couple of questions about this establishment."

"You know I don't work here, don't you? I'm just the person who cleans up after them. I've got nothing to do with whatever weird conspiracy theories you punks subscribe to!"

His dark eyes peered at her probingly. "I'm sorry about all of this. You're not going to get hurt, and it'll all be over soon."

"They said they'd let me go!"

"I _will_ let you go, after we talk."

"I'm not going _anywhere_ with you; you can't make me! You put your hands on me one more time and you can _forget_ about me keeping anything quiet!"

Jazz wasn't prepared for the jab in her arm. She was so surprised, she didn't even have a chance to cry out. The world around her was rapidly becoming smaller and incredibly dark, which was almost a welcome change.


	56. Guests

"Greg, what are you _thinking_?" Leo demanded. "You can't take her anywhere! Just leave her here, and let's go!"

The sandy-haired man took a deep breath. "I'm _not_ taking her anywhere. We'll sit right here in my car, and we'll be fine."

"This is the wrong way to do it!" Leonardo said sharply. "She's already scared out of her mind. We _told_ her that we'd leave her alone."

"All I need is ten minutes, Leo. Ten minutes to talk to her, right outside the Travel Agency."

"I don't agree with this," the blue-masked turtle replied.

"I got that memo, Leo. Would you guys mind getting lost before somebody comes along and sees you? She'll be waking up in a couple of minutes; I only used the short-acting sedative on her."

"Where did you get that epi-pen, Greg?"

"Does it matter?"

"You can't do whatever you want with this girl just because she accidentally ran into us! This wasn't her fault!"

"Leo, you know I'm not going to hurt her; I'd never do something like that. I'm going to reason with her a little bit, and try to find out if there's anything weird going on behind the scenes."

The blue-masked turtle's eyes were narrowed as he backed away from the driver's side of Greg's Jeep. "We're _not_ done talking about this," he said tersely.

"That's great, Leo, you can continue lecturing me later. For now, why don't you try practicing the art of invisibility?"

Greg knew he wasn't helping matters with his angry friend, but he was more concerned with protecting the turtles than satisfying them. He watched Leonardo stalk away and cut across the street to return to the waiting Battleshell. He looked in his rear-view mirror to see if the van would pull away, but the vehicle lingered. Greg could also see the Volvo ahead of him, where he knew Katherine, Tim, and Sayuri were sitting.

_Dagone it, guys, just _go_. I can handle this without a babysitter._

Sayuri wasn't any happier with him than the turtles were, which was why she'd gone to ride in the Volvo. Greg didn't enjoy having everyone else furious with him, but he was willing to endure it temporarily in order to get some more face time with the young woman. He continued watching his mirror until he saw the Battleshell start rolling, and exhaled softly.

Greg reached behind his seat to retrieve a case, and removed a small computer that he used for FBI business. _It never hurts to get some background, _he said to himself, looking over at the young woman who was passed out in his passenger seat. He lifted her hand and deftly scanned her thumbprint into the machine to search through two different databases. He left both the windows searching, and didn't expect to get a hit nearly as quickly as he did.

_Oh wow…she's got a record, even did some _prison_ time. What on earth did she do?_

Greg began skimming her rap sheet, while keeping half an eye on the girl in case she was waking up. _Army brat. Dad's a big-time _Colonel_, stationed over in Europe. I bet _he's_ proud of his little cyber criminal. Geesh, she was at MIT, and it looks like she completely screwed it up. I guess some people don't appreciate an opportunity when it's given to them. She's got to be as sharp as a tack, but she's stuck cleaning a Travel Agency? That might be a worse punishment than Prison._

Greg picked up movement out of the corner of his eye and sat up further to make sure that the safety locks were engaged. The young woman's head rose off the seat, and a diamond stud in her nose sparkled as it caught the light from an overhanging street lamp.

She swore as she came further around, while also cringing against the seat in fear.

"Easy," Greg said. "Don't panic. You're right outside the Travel Agency, and I just want to talk to you."

The young woman cursed at him more loudly when she tried the door handle to no avail. "Who do you think you are? Let me out of here!"

"I'm going to let you out, but I need to say a couple of things first."

"I don't care _what_ you want to say, freak, this is kidnapping! I'm not important enough for you to throw your life away. You don't want to go to Prison."

"You could tell me a few things about Prison, couldn't you, Jasmine?"

She froze up as if she'd been shot. "How do you know who I am? What are you trying to catch me for? I didn't do anything!"

"I'm not here to accuse you, Jasmine—"

"Stop calling me that, and tell me what you want!"

"That's your name, isn't it?"

"Jazz, _just_ Jazz," she emphasized. "Get to the point please?"

"Okay, the point. I understand if you need to call the police to tell them that there was a break-in. I only wanted to make sure that my unique friends aren't going to come up in any conversations."

"You mean those turtles?" She suddenly sounded breathless. "Where in God's name did they come from?"

"That's irrelevant. What matters is that you're not going to talk about them, are you?"

The girl sighed heavily, a sound much too ancient for someone in their 20's. "Punk, _look_ at me. Take a good look. I get judged everywhere I go for being different, and I've already got the law against me. If I run to the cops with this story of talking turtles, I'll end up under Court-mandated therapy too. I think my life already sucks enough."

She focused steely grey eyes on Greg. "So, is that it? You just want to make sure that I'm not gonna blow your friends' cover to the cops?"

"Almost. Do you know anything about how this Company runs?"

She gave him a withering look. "I don't know any of their people. We come in to do the big cleaning once a month, after everyone is gone. I don't know what kind of whacked out ideas you guys have, but you need to get your facts straight. There isn't anything unusual going on here."

"I don't know that for certain, but thanks for the assurance."

"_My _turn," she said crossly. "How do you know me _or_ my record?"

"I looked it up with your fingerprint," he replied honestly.

Jazz stared at the case sitting in his lap and swore. "What the heck, Man? Where did you get this crap? Are you some kind of cop in disguise?"

"Yes and no."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I work for a certain branch of law enforcement, but this particular trip is off the books."

"_All _of you are crazy out your minds. I'm sitting here minding my own business, and you gotta come and bust me up?"

"I'm sorry for that, Jazz, I truly am. We didn't mean to ruin your night; we had no idea you were inside."

The girl eyed him suspiciously. "Are you going let me out of this car, or am I going to have to scream my head off?"

"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't. It's not a pleasant sound."

"Then you'd better let me go before I have to get loud on you!"

The screech of tires caught Greg's attention outside, and he looked in his rear-view mirror to see a dark-colored SUV pulling up behind him. His brow furrowed as the vehicle came within inches of his bumper. _Dang they're close to me. It's not like they needed the space to fit._

While he was still watching his mirror a second SUV turned onto the street about a block away, and immediately began rolling his direction too. _This is weird, _he realized in an instant. _It's not right. Time to go. _Greg started his Jeep and slammed it into drive.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Jazz demanded. "You said you'd let me go!"

"Miss Stewart, I'm going to need you to sit tight and buckle up, because I think we have a problem behind us."

"What are you talking about?"

Greg didn't answer. As he pulled away from the curb, he recognized that the other SUV was trying to get ahead of him. "No you're _not _boxing me in!" he said heatedly, flooring the accelerator.

"Are you _insane_?" Jazz's voice rose. "Stop the car and let me out!"

"In case you couldn't tell, that's exactly what they want!" Greg returned. "If I stop, we're both dead meat!"

"Who's trying to trap you?"

"Seat belt, Jazz, _now_!"

Greg jerked his head in the direction of the SUV that was fighting for the dominant position at the head of the pack, and picked out what appeared to be Asians up front. "Crap, crap, crap!"

He hit the accelerator again, narrowly avoiding parked cars as he strove to stay ahead of the SUVs. Beside him Jazz was screaming, and he tried desperately to tune her out so that he could focus on driving. _Was the Akiudo watching the Agency after all? But they took so long to make their move!_

Greg veered into the lane of oncoming traffic to give him more room to escape from the black vehicles. _I don't think I can outrun them. I need reinforcements if there's going to be a fight, but I also need to get this chase away from civilians!_

The sight of approaching headlights made him steer back into the correct lane, cutting it extremely close with the driver behind him. As he neared the next intersection an idea occurred to him. _The docks! They're probably abandoned around this time._

He used both hands to make a sharp left turn onto the side street that he knew would connect him with the harbor, and then yanked out his cell phone. Greg mashed Leonardo's speed-dial without hesitation.

The blue-masked turtle answered immediately. "Please tell me you let—"

"Leo, shut up!" Greg ordered. "I've got two nasty tails, and I'd guess one-hundred to one that they're Akiudo!"

"_What?_ Where?"

"They just showed up all of a sudden when we were parked out front of the Agency! I'm heading for the docks, and I could use some assistance!"

"We're turning around!" Leo barked. "Don't let them stop you, Heff!"

"I'm doing my best – hurry up!"

Beside Greg, Jazz was swearing and holding on to her seat for dear life. "You crazy bastard, what are you getting me into?"

"It's complicated," Greg replied helplessly. "My friends are coming; we're gonna be all right! Just hang on!"

Jazz looked dangerously close to throwing up, which also happened to be what Greg felt like doing. He sucked air greedily as he ran a red light, speeding through an intersection seconds after another car came through from the perpendicular line of traffic.

_Get to the docks, get to the docks – but what am I supposed to do when I get there, drive in circles? That'll buy me about thirty seconds!_

Another look back told him that running the light had bought him a little more wiggle room, but not much. He performed a half spin with the Jeep as he pulled up on the asphalt a few yards away from the water. He'd no sooner started turning the wheel again, when the engine inexplicably died.

"_What_?" Greg jerked his keys around to restart the motor, but it refused to turn over. Frantically he grabbed his phone and called the blue-masked turtle back. "Leo! Leo, we're sitting ducks! My car just died, and I can't do _anything_!"

"Were you still headed for the docks?"

"We made it here, Leo, but we're completely stuck now!" Greg's hands shook as they grasped the wheel, and he spotted headlights. "They're coming – they're here, Leo!"

"Greg, we're coming as fast as we can! You have to stall somehow!" The anxiety in the turtle's tone made the man feel even more desperate.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do, but I'll try!" He hung up the phone and dropped it on the dashboard.

Greg growled angrily as he tried the key a couple more times. Running didn't seem like a viable option, not with how close the SUVs were. _It would be nothing for them to catch up to us on foot. _He glanced over at Jazz, and found the young woman digging through his glove compartment. "What are you looking for?"

"Your prescription! I know you've got one around here somewhere!"

"Jazz, we're in a lot of trouble! I need you to stay calm."

"_You_ – you're in a lot of trouble! I've got nothing to do with any of this!

"No, you don't. But you're here, and that means you're in just as much trouble as I am!" Greg turned his head as he heard an SUV bearing down on them.

He heard Jazz take a deep breath a fraction of an instant before something metal made contact with the back of his head. The blow wasn't hard enough to faze him and he jerked around in time to see the Maglite coming a second time.


	57. Firepower

Jazz wasn't sure _what_ she was doing, but getting off the crazy train had just become her first priority. She could tell the man had only been temporarily stunned by her makeshift weapon, but it provided the opportunity she needed to reach over him to get to the button that controlled the door locks.

Her heart thudded loudly in her ears as she jumped out of the Jeep and made a run for it, sprinting in the direction of the closest civilization. The rain had lapsed momentarily, but the puddles through which she was dashing felt deep enough to drown a small mammal.

Jazz drew up short when she found herself facing down one of the SUVs, though she wasn't shocked to come up cornered. It still felt better to have made some attempt to escape instead of waiting for them to come get her. When she looked back over her shoulder, however, she was pretty disgusted to realize that she was only a few yards away from where she'd started.

Both SUVs moved into position to flank the Jeep. As the doors opened, the young woman was spurred on to run once more, ignoring the voice in her head telling her that she'd never make it. The natural instinct for flight had taken over. Jazz ran about four strides before someone extremely light-footed caught up with her.

She whirled around to face the Asian stranger, cringing as he caught her by the back of the neck. "Let me go! I'm not part of this! I don't even _know_ that crazy freak; let me GO!"

Yelling only had the effect of causing his grip to tighten. The man's face remained impassive as he dragged her back over to the group that was surrounding the Jeep Liberty as if it was some tremendous prize. Jazz scanned the circle with confusion, taking in the overwhelming sight of the hardened men.

_Where did all these jokers _come _from? This feels like the plot of some awful B-movie, not something that happens in real life. _The Asian man clutching her by the neck was joined by another on her right side, providing insurance that she _truly_ wasn't going anywhere. _Yeah, because one scary guy wasn't enough._

Her attention was drawn as her original "kidnapper" was yanked out of his car, and she winced at the sight of the bleeding gash across his cheek bone. She had a moment to wonder how badly she'd hurt him, before a female voice joined the male-dominated ranks. Jazz cocked her head at the manner with which the men gave way to the woman as she strode through them, stopping and staring hard at Greg.

Jazz couldn't understand whatever she was saying about him, but she suspected that it wasn't anything good. The Asian woman turned then, and verily _glided_ in her direction. The young woman swore she nearly walked on top of the puddles instead of through them. Dark ebony eyes regarded Jazz coolly, with an expression that appeared to be devoid of emotion.

_Man, those weird turtles were more human than this chick is. What on earth—_A scuffle interrupted her thought, and she realized that her "partner in crime" was a little more lively than she'd originally thought. To her astonishment she realized that Greg had broken away from the man who was balancing him upright, and was now aiming his firearm.

The Asian woman spun with the grace of a dancer. "Put it down, Agent Heffernan," she said crisply.

Jazz was shocked to hear her speak English, but then chided herself for imagining that the woman _couldn't_.

"No," Greg replied stoically. "Not unless you let _her_ go. This girl has nothing to do with us; she's never even _heard_ of the Shitenno."

_The what? Is _he_ speaking English?_

"Do you want one of your warriors to die unnecessarily, or can you let her go without a fight?" Greg challenged. "You can have me. I'm the reason you're here."

_He's actually trying to get me out of this?_

Rather than responding to him, the Asian woman inclined her head toward one of the SUVs, and three more men emerged, who'd been unseen behind tinted glass. Jazz caught her breath when she saw their assault rifles. The nature of the weapons wasn't lost on her; she'd been _raised _in a military family.

"I am not here to negotiate with you, Agent Heffernan," the strange woman said. "You _will_ do as I say and give up your gun, before we kill this young woman merely to spite you."

Greg held up his handgun in surrender, grimacing as one of the men snatched it from his outstretched hand.

"Very good, Heffernan," the woman said flatly. "I have no real need of the extra baggage. I will do this girl the favor of a quick death."

The proclamation was so cold, Jazz couldn't believe it had come out of the woman's mouth. Grey eyes widened as the speaker whipped back around to face her, and caught her by the chin. The young woman mentally tried to prepare herself to breathe her last breath, and was surprised she didn't feel more disappointed.

The loud engine of an approaching vehicle ruined Jazz's chance to enjoy the oxygen. The arrival of the car signaled the beginning of gunfire, and she was lost as to how to respond to it. She wanted to try and run again, but reason reminded her that she wouldn't make it far.

Jazz settled for hitting the pavement and covering her head with her arms, temporarily lost in the madness of car engines, assault rifles, and loud voices. When she chanced a look over her shoulder, she saw _two_ vehicles. The armored van made her gaze linger for a couple of seconds, before focusing on the Volvo that the gunfire seemed to be targeting.

Between the rifles discharging, she heard smaller guns returning fire, hopelessly outmatched by the larger weapons. Jazz barely had the opportunity to wonder why the Asians were concentrating their efforts on the smaller car, when two shadowy figures lunged into the pack of men. She hadn't even seen them coming while focused on the gunfire, but was instantly concerned that the strangers were about to be murdered in cold blood. When she squinted her eyes, she recognized the form of one of the creatures from the Travel Agency.

_The turtles! They're back! And they're about to get killed!_

She was confused (but secretly relieved) when the men didn't turn their rifles on the turtles. Other members of the group huddled up around the side of the collection of gunmen, as if to shield them from outside assault. Dread turned into astonishment in a flash as she watched the ferocity with which the creatures attacked the men.

She was so distracted in trying to watch the fight that she didn't notice Greg standing over her until he grabbed her arm. Jazz started to ask him how he'd escaped the men, but shut her mouth as she realized that it wasn't necessary. He'd been forgotten in the same way that she had in the middle of gunfire and blows.

The man gave her a push to get her moving, and caught her around the waist as her shaky legs stumbled. Greg planted himself squarely behind her, guiding her in the direction of the armored van. Jazz expected death to come at any moment, but the unreal scene continued raging without either of them being hit by bullets.

When they were within range of the van, Greg urged her against the protected side, standing in the path of the only direction from which they were still exposed.

"Around the back!" he shouted, as the closer-range handgun fire rang in her ears.

As Jazz slid against the side and peered at the back doors, she caught sight of three figures crouching near the ground, hiding behind the Volvo.

"Inside!" Greg ordered, yanking open one of the doors.

For the first time that evening, she didn't even hesitate.

* * *

><p>Raphael was gripping the steering wheel of the van so hard that it felt like it was about to come off in his hands. <em>"Stay in the van,<em>" _Leo said, "Provide us with a quick getaway." _Raphael burned silently in the driver's seat. _Getaway nothing_. _Our friends are about to get shot to pieces out there._

The red-masked turtle knew that the firefight hadn't been going on very long, but the need to move felt urgent nonetheless. A bang on the passenger side door nearly sent him into overdrive, before he saw Greg at the window, and unlocked the car to let him inside.

"Raph, we have to get your brothers out of that!" Greg exclaimed.

"They ain't shooting at Leo and Mikey, they wanna kill the _rest_ of you! We're the only ones they need alive!"

"We're not going to win this fight!" Greg said bluntly. "We've got to get your brothers, and provide some type of distraction so that the others can escape! Kat and Tim don't carry a huge amount of ammo on them, and they're no match for those rifles anyway! Their firepower is a lot greater than ours!"

"The shell it is," Raphael said shortly. "Go around back and yell at them to watch the van. They'll _know_ when to make their move. You probably ought to ride with that girl."

Greg opened the door again without asking any questions, but then he stiffened. "I hear sirens coming, Raph! We've gotta finish this up before the cops do!"

"Do what I said!" the turtle ordered, and reached for his cell phone. Leonardo had put his earpiece in at the last minute so that he'd be able to give him instructions if it was necessary, but now Raphael had an instruction of his own. "Leo, do ya hear me?"

"Make it fast, Raph!"

"Leo, you and Mike gotta fall back from those SUVs! The cops are on their way, and we have to split!"

"Raph, this is our best chance t—"

"Fearless, get yourself away from them SUVs _now_, or you're putting our friends in worse danger!"

"All right!" Leonardo agreed. "We're heading back around!"

Raphael searched for their forms in the shadows, and was grateful to see two figures bounding away from the action. The red-masked turtle took a deep breath as he reached under the dashboard and depressed two buttons at the same time. To his right a small monitor flickered to life and he angled a joystick to line up the proper target on the screen.

He clutched the stick tightly to prevent his hand from shaking and exhaled once more, then mashed the button in the center of the instrument to deploy a single missile. The turtle felt like he was inside of a dream as he watched the weapon launch and rapidly strike one of the SUVs across from them, with a fiery explosion that lit up the scene.

The shock of what he'd done left Raphael paralyzed for a couple more seconds, before he realigned the screen on the remaining SUV. His hand was steadier on the joystick this time, and the faintest hint of a smirk broke on his features as he deployed a second missile. He was captured once more by the destruction the weapon wrought, so that he barely noticed when Leonardo hopped into the passenger side of the Battleshell.

"_Shell_, Raph, are you out of your _mind_? How could you unleash the missiles without even consulting me?"

"Let's talk about that later, Leo!" Raphael barked in return. "Did you see if the others got out of the way?"

"The Volvo is in motion!" Leonardo answered. "Just get us out of here before the police roll in!"

"I hope everybody buckled up," he muttered, whipping the van around in a tight circle.

The red-masked turtle quickly accelerated away from the scene, but couldn't resist looking back in his side mirror. "Wow," he uttered. "Guess they know who's got the _real_ firepower now."

Leo shook his head. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you were going to do that!"

"I told you to get away from the cars, didn't I? I had to do something, Leo; our friends coulda been killed out there. Do you get that? I had to do _something_!" he repeated.

His older brother leaned back in his seat, hiding his eyes momentarily. "That could have gone a lot smoother."

"We got everybody, don't we? Plus one hitchhiker."

Leonardo groaned loudly. "Holy shell, that _girl_. I'll be surprised if she hasn't had a heart attack already."

"She looked okay when Heff rushed her by."

Leo looked toward the mirror, and Raphael knew that he was staring at the flames shooting up into the sky.

"Don's gonna have a few words for you," Leonardo murmured wearily.

"About what? Distracting a few morons with guns so our friends could get away, and preventing them from following us?"

"He'll probably just be sorry he missed it," Leo said dryly. "So much for a quiet recon operation."


	58. Straight

Michelangelo was bursting with excess adrenaline from the unfinished battle, so that he had a difficult time sitting still. The speed with which his red-masked brother was driving was the only thing that forced him to remain buckled in.

Across from him, Greg was quiet. The man was gripping one hand against the gash in his cheek that had yet to be addressed. The young woman from the Travel Agency was curled up in a ball on the far end of the bench seat upon which Mike was sitting; a feat the turtle was impressed she could manage while being strapped in by a seatbelt.

_It's not funny, shell-head, _he chided himself fiercely. _She's scared to death. Say something!_

"Hey," he addressed her more quietly than he normally would have, as if he was comforting one of the young ones. "It's gonna be okay now. We're not going to let anybody hurt you, I swear."

He watched her shoulders shudder as she buried her face further in her arms. _Shell, does she not want me to see her cry? I think that's the last thing I'd care about if I were her. But I'm not a human girl, and I don't know anything about her._

Mike decided to take his life into his hands by removing his seatbelt, so he could reach the emergency kit that was under the seat. He quickly located a packaged bandage, and tore it open before handing it off to Greg. "Just put some pressure on it for right now, and I'll try to help you more in a minute."

He also found a miniature-sized pack of tissues, and approached the young woman more carefully. She automatically tried to pull away from him, but he persistently pressed the tissues into her hand.

"Nobody's gonna hurt you," he repeated, backing away. When Mike settled down on the seat again, Greg stared at him bleakly.

"I don't know how they found me, Mike. I didn't do anything strange. Jazz and I were just talking in my car, and suddenly the Akiudo were _there_."

"Jazz?" Mike said questioningly.

Greg pointed to the girl. "I'm really sorry." The man sounded shaken. "I didn't mean to drag you into this, Jazz, or to nearly get you killed."

She was rubbing her eyes fiercely with a tissue, and Mike could see the remnants of heavy black eyeliner disappearing. "What is '_sorry_' gonna do for me?" she demanded. "I don't want an apology. I want an explanation!"

"You deserve one," Greg replied. "We don't want to hold out on you; it's just extremely complicated to explain."

"Who _are_ you? Why not start there?" she asked sharply. "That woman called you _Agent_. Who do you work for?"

"I'm based out of the field office of the FBI, but like I told you, this mission wasn't official business."

"What does that mean? Is there another branch of the government involved?"

"Just the opposite actually," he answered. "We don't answer to a higher authority concerning these missions. We operate independently."

"That only makes this more confusing. Who were those people, and why were they trying to kill us?"

"Do you want a straight answer?" Greg asked.

"Let's consider tonight's events," Jazz said slowly, casting Michelangelo a wary look before turning to Greg. "So far I've survived a break-in involving turtles that talk, being drugged and kidnapped by _you_, only to be dropped into a gun battle. I _think_ I can handle hearing it straight, Greg."

"What you saw tonight is a small faction of a larger group, which we're actually working on tracking down," Greg told her. "I didn't count on them tracking _me_ down first."

"But who _are_ they?"

"They're bad guys. Terrorists. The kinda people you don't wanna be around," Mike said glibly.

"Terrorists?" she echoed. "I don't understand. Why aren't the real authorities involved? And why are they coming after you?" Jazz directed to Greg.

"Because they want _us_," Mike spoke up before the man could. "None of this was about you guys. That's why they didn't mind taking shots at our friends."

The young woman focused on Mike, and her grey eyes appeared a little eerie from the effect of crying. "Then what do they want with _you_?"

The orange-masked turtle shook his head. "We've messed up their plans a few times," he said. "I don't know what they'll do if they catch us aga—"

"You've messed up their plans?" Jazz interrupted. "That's nowhere close to being up front. Let's simplify this, okay? What are they doing here? What's their purpose?"

"They want to catch up with us, but there's more to it than that." Mike looked at Greg for help.

The sandy-haired man shifted on his seat, folding one arm across his chest as he pressed the bandage more firmly against his cheek. "They're called the Akiudo. When we first became aware of them, their main objective was a slave trade. They were trafficking in young women. We faced them here in the US, and again inside their own territory in Okinawa. We tried to finish it last time, and ended up bringing the cops down on their heads. Their leader and several others went away to Prison."

"What were those people tonight, leftovers?"

"More like the resurgence," Greg admitted. "Their leader escaped. He's on the loose, and now he's in New York with revenge in mind. This group is responsible for the attack on the subway a couple of days ago."

The young woman suddenly looked paler. "Did they come here just to kill people?"

"The theory we were operating under is that they'd come to exact revenge for us shutting down their slave trade and for breaking up the gang," Greg said,

"Then why attack people on the train?" Jazz wanted to know.

"Because they want us to suffer _before_ they kill us," Mike said morosely.

Jazz's confused gaze held his eyes until Greg spoke.

"What you need to understand is that the turtles aren't like anyone else you're ever going to meet."

"Oh, I believe that," she returned.

"I'm not referring to their physical differences," Greg clarified. "They care more about innocent strangers than they do themselves. Risking their lives isn't a hobby for them – it's a lifestyle. They care about all life, and the Akiudo know it."

"Are these the people that you were trying to track down through the Travel Agency?"

"We had a clue lead us to that business, which is why we ended up in your neck of the woods tonight," Greg said apologetically. "We didn't mean to completely turn your world upside-down, or _I_ didn't, I should say. It's my fault that you're here."

"Yes, it is," she said flatly. "The question is, what happens to me now? Where are you taking me?"

"At the moment we're just getting the shell away from the cops," Mike supplied. "But I don't think we're taking you anywhere else you don't wanna go."

Greg looked troubled. "We'll drop you off near a Police Station, if that's what you want."

"For what purpose?" she asked. "Do you think I'll be able to rationally describe what happened tonight? Cops are always quick to jump to conclusions over me."

"Not all of them are like that," Mike contradicted.

"They are to _me_," Jazz said stubbornly. "It doesn't matter what I do, I'm already tainted. I'm not going to the police."

"Okay," Greg said guardedly. "Then what do you want us to do? Where do you want to go? We could double-back around to the Travel Agency—"

"You think I can go back to work after all this?"

"What about home?" Mike suggested.

Judging by her expression, that wasn't an acceptable idea either. _She's still scared, _he understood. _She probably doesn't want to be alone. _

"Do you have a roommate?" he asked.

"No," Jazz replied faintly.

"Do you have any family in the area? Friends you can turn to?" the turtle pressed.

"I can't face anyone right now. I won't be able to explain any of this! I'm not about to be accused of using on top of everything else."

"Using?"

"Yeah, drugs, alcohol? That's where all my problems have to come from, right? There's nothing else that could possibly contribute to my messed up life!"

Greg cleared his throat calmly. "Jazz, just tell us what you want to do, and we'll make it happen. Where do you want to go? If it's only a matter of safety, you can stay with me as far as I'm concerned."

"Stay with you _where_?" she asked uncertainly. Jazz's nerves leaped to the surface as if he'd threatened to attack her.

"In one of my friends' apartment," Greg said. "I have to catch up with someone else who's waiting for me."

_Shell, _Brandon, Mike thought inwardly. _He's probably wigging out in that apartment by himself, and now the rain is back full force._

"Where is it?" Jazz asked.

"Close to St. Joseph's. Do you know the hospital? Maybe it would be better for you to stick with us for a while," Greg encouraged.

_To make sure that nothing else happens to you_, Mike silently filled in.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yes," Greg replied. "Say the word, and you're free."

It was clear that the frightened woman was wrestling with possibilities. "Maybe just for a little while," she faltered, and glanced at Mike. "Will you be there?"

Michelangelo shook his head. "We probably need to get the van out of sight. My bros and I will be heading home. Can you get Marc to take a look at you, Greg?"

"I'll call him and find out what his status with Caleb is, but this wound is hardly life-threatening. I've had a lot worse, and I _deserved_ worse this time."

Jazz ducked her head abashedly. "I'm sorry I hit you," she mumbled. "I wasn't thinking straight. I just wanted to get out of there."

"I don't blame you," he said. "I almost got you killed a dozen different ways tonight." Greg met Mike's eyes. "I'll check with Leo concerning where we're heading first, then I'll call Marc."

The orange-masked turtle nodded. When he turned his head, he found Jazz already staring at him. "So...Jazz," he said casually. "Cool name. I'm Mike." He held out his hand, and she looked down at it, unmoving. "It doesn't bite," he assured her.

From the curiosity in her eyes, he guessed that she _wanted _to touch him, though she was nervous. Seconds passed before she raised her hand to grasp his fingers in greeting.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" she asked.

"My dad." The turtle winked, knowing the answer was far from satisfying. "He trained me and my brothers since we were kids."

"You have a father? Well of course you had parents, I mean, you had to come from somewhere," she babbled awkwardly.

"We had an adopted dad," Mike offered. "He taught us everything we know about fighting and honor."

"Honor?" She sounded intrigued by the word. "What about honor?"

"Well…like valuing all life," he answered. "And not fighting without a good reason, only to defend someone else's or own lives."

The way she was looking at him underwent a subtle change. "You remind me of some kind of soldier," Jazz said. "I've been around those types all my life, but with you…"

"What?"

"I don't know. It's different – _you're_ different. It's not just the appearance either. You really are good guys, aren't you?"

Mike nodded.

"Can you stop those terrorists on your own?" she asked. "It seems like you need someone else, some larger force on your side. I saw you guys fight and it looked amazing, but…Isn't this why the armies and tactical teams exist, to take out the terrorists? I might not like cops, but I can admit that they even serve a purpose from time to time."

"We took 'em down twice already," Mike said forcefully. By the way her chin quivered, it was obvious he'd come on too strong. "Yeah, it would make sense to have the Police working on stuff like this. But it also takes more time, and the 'due process'. We don't have any restraints in hunting them, except for finding the clues we need to begin with.

"When you're dealing with a certain type of bad guy, sometimes you can't wait on the authorities to catch up. The cops in Okinawa don't even know that the gang's leader dude escaped. They think he's dead. They're not looking for him, and the American Police won't either."

"How do you know that they're behind the subway?"

"'Cause their leader called Greg and basically took the credit for it. We're the ones Takashi wants, but like I said, they want to torture us too. A lot more people could die. Do you understand why we have to do things the way we did tonight? That's why we broke into the Agency. These dudes are bad to the core, and they don't care who they kill. They'll hurt more people to get to us, and we want to stop it before it goes that far."

Jazz bit her lip in consternation. "What was that attack tonight? How did it fit into their plans?"

"We don't know," the turtle replied. "We don't even know how they found Greg, or what they would have done with him. I could try to imagine, but I don't wanna go there."

The young woman shivered. "I don't either. That woman was whacked out."

Mike grinned at her description, but was drawn away from her by Greg hanging up the phone.

"Leo says we're in the clear with the cops. Kat, Tim and Sayuri split off in another direction, but he already heard from them. They're taking the flashdrives under—" Greg paused. "Home. They're taking them back to Donny. Raph is going to drop off Jazz and I at Marc's building, and we're going to hole up with Bran for a while. I'm going to call Marcus and see how soon he and Caleb will be finished in Chelsea."

Michelangelo saw the confusion in Jazz's eyes at all the different names that had just come up. "Hey, we're ninjas, okay?" He smiled. "We keep our word. If we say you're gonna be safe, then you are."

Jazz shook her head. "This has to be the craziest night I've ever had."


	59. Impressions

Jazz did her best to appear stoic as Greg guided her out of the elevator toward the apartment. She was grateful that it had been _his _suggestion for her to stay with him, and she hadn't been forced to degrade herself any further. _Am I crazy for wanting to be anywhere near these people? I probably am, but no one else can know about what happened tonight. I'm really not ready to be alone, but if one more thing goes wrong, I might need to take my chances._

Jazz silently trailed behind the sandy-haired man as he went ahead of her to open the door. The instant it swung inward, she heard a mighty swear come from inside.

"Where have you _been_, Greg? Why didn't you call me?"

"I'm sorry, Bran, things got complicated," the man replied. "And we have a guest."

"What kind of guest? What are you talking about?"

"Brandon, sit down, okay? I have a lot to fill you in on." Greg turned back to the hall. "C'mon in here, Jazz. It's all right; you're perfectly safe."

The young woman swallowed as she slipped through the door, smoothing a hand through flattened hair that had been dampened by the rain. She suddenly felt a little awkward to be meeting yet another new person in her current rough condition.

_Oh well. There's nothing I can do about it now._

Jazz shuffled further into the living room, and laid eyes on the owner of the irritated voice. The bronze-haired man was seated when she came in, but when he saw _her_, he jumped back to his feet. Golden brown eyes observed her nervously as he clenched both fists at his side. Something about his rigid stance reminded her of an animal that would bolt with very little incentive.

"Uh…Brandon, this is Jazz," Greg offered. "We had an accident at the Travel Agency. She pretty much knows everything and then some."

"She knows _everything_? She saw the guys?" Brandon demanded. "Greg, why couldn't you give me a heads-up? What happened out there?"

"It's a long story, Bran, and Jazz got dragged along for the ride. After what she's been through tonight, I think she deserves a chance to relax. Why don't you sit down, and I'll try to explain everything. Jazz, you could sit down too," he invited her. "This is Brandon, and he's one of my best friends. He knows all about the turtles and the gang, so there's nothing to hide between the three of us."

_Sure, we can all just sit here and sing Kumbaya until we're new best friends, _she thought sarcastically.

"What does she know about the Akiudo?" Brandon asked sharply.

The way he refused to address her directly irked the young woman. "I know that they tried to kill me for no good reason!" she shot back before Greg could respond. "I know that _none_ of this crap has anything to do with me. I didn't ask to be here _or_ to have secret meetings with terrorists!"

"Wait, you saw the Akiudo _tonight_?" Brandon's voice soared as he stared at Greg.

_And he's _still_ not talking to me._

"Yes, we did," Greg answered. "I don't know how they found me, Bran. I'd separated from the guys, and I was trying to talk to Jazz, when two SUVs showed up. I made it to the docks, and then my car completely died on me. Jazz and I were cornered by them, but thankfully help arrived. There was a brief firefight and things ended with a bang," Greg said sardonically.

_That's _one_ way to put it._

Brandon's breathing picked up considerably. "My God, is everyone all right?"

"I would have told you already if they weren't."

"Where's Kat?"

"She, Tim, and Sayuri took the flashdrives to Donny."

"Who's Donny?" Jazz cut in.

"The turtles' brother," Greg told her.

"There are more of them?"

The sandy-haired man chuckled. "Just one."

Jazz glanced back at Brandon. From the way he hunched over on the couch with a shiver, she could have imagined he'd been out there with them.

"I can't believe this," Brandon continued. "They just came out of nowhere?"

"I'm guessing that they'd been watching the Travel Agency, but their timing was—" Greg cut off, and looked down at his cell phone. He watched the device ring, and made no attempt to answer it. The man started to put it down, but it immediately began ringing a second time. Greg swore softly.

"Who is it, Greg?" Brandon asked.

"It's Kelley. He knows – I'm sure he does. I had no choice but to leave my Jeep back there in the middle of the bedlam. If I ignore him, he's just going to track me down. Excuse me, guys." He released a deep breath, and answered the phone. "Hello, Sir. I'm okay – we _all _are."

There was a long silence, which was followed by a grimace from Greg. "But it wasn't…we didn't…Sir, would you _listen_ to me? We didn't have a choice! _No, _we didn't start it; they were firing on us with assault rifles! I did the best I could to contain it. Why do you think we ended up at the docks instead of a residential neighborhood?"

There were an additional few quiet seconds, and Greg yanked his collar nervously. "I don't know anything about missiles. Do you think that I carry a launch-pad around in my trunk? They attacked _us_, Director! I don't know where they came from, okay? We didn't start this! Why is that so difficult for you to understand?

"Yes, I know all _about _your position, Sir, but I'm telling you, it wasn't our fault! I can't do that. I just got in and I'm dealing with…You can't make me…Fine! No, not there. I'm at the building near St. Joseph's. You're where? Then I'll wait for you. Bye." Greg grunted in frustration as he hung up the phone. "That didn't take long," he muttered.

"Why did he ask you about missiles?" Brandon interjected.

"Raph deployed weapons from the Battleshell to destroy their SUVs," he confessed.

The other man actually grinned. "I can't believe I missed it! Did he take out any of _them_?"

"That wasn't his real goal. Raph was just trying to create a distraction so that Kat, Tim, and Sayuri could escape the gunfire, and he made it impossible for them to follow us."

"I'm gonna have to give him a pat on the shell next time I see him."

Greg stuffed his phone back into his pocket. "That's a good idea, Bran. Right now, I'm afraid I have to leave."

"You're what?" Brandon's tone rose a second time.

"Kelley is demanding a meeting. I have to go downstairs to wait for him."

"Greg, you just got here! You can't leave me alone again!"

Jazz was perplexed by the amount of fear in his voice.

"You won't be completely alone, and Marc and Caleb are heading this direction soon."

"You _can't _leave," Brandon insisted.

"I don't have a choice, Bran! This man can destroy us. Do you remember that? Kelley could send Kat and me away forever! He's not giving me an option this time. I have to go talk to him." Greg looked at Jazz. "I'm sorry. He's only about ten minutes away. You're safe here, Jazz. The two of you won't be alone for long, and I'll be back as soon as I can."

Brandon leaped up to pursue Greg as he moved toward the door. "Greg, I'm asking you not to go. "

"I don't want to go – I _have_ to. I'm sorry, Bran. You'll be all right. Make sure the doors are locked and sit tight. Jazz has been through hell tonight. Be nice and look after her, okay?"

_Is that code for 'watch me like a hawk?'_

Brandon cursed as Greg shut the door behind him, but then his head swiveled to see the pouring rain outside rather than looking at Jazz.

_What is this guy's deal? Is he _always_ this paranoid?_

"Well," Brandon said flatly. "It's going to be fine. It's fine. They're not here. They already took a beating tonight," he said under his breath.

"Do you save all your reassurance for yourself, or could you throw some of that this direction?" Jazz asked dryly.

The look he gave her was a mixture of anger and desperation. "I can't deal with this right now."

"_You_ can't deal with this?" She was incredulous. "I was only doing my job tonight! I didn't ask for someone to try and kill me. _I'm_ the victim here!"

His broad shoulders slumped awkwardly. "Whatever; I get it."

Jazz smoothly got to her feet. "It doesn't sound like either of us is too happy about the situation," the young woman said. "You _don't_ have to deal with me. I'm cool, y'know? I can find the way out."

"No!" His insistence only served to alarm her. "No," he repeated more quietly. "You can't go. Greg asked me to look after you, and I can do that much."

The defensive posture with which he blocked the door made Jazz catch her breath, and she swore inwardly. _This punk is huge, and I swear he's coming unglued. I think I'm better off alone. I can start searching the job listings. There's no way I still have mine after disappearing tonight. _Jazz sighed to herself. _That's just what I need to think about. I'm screwed – it's the story of my life. I have to find some way out._

She looked toward the hall. "Is the bathroom down there?"

Brandon rubbed the back of his head, as though suddenly ashamed. "Yeah, uh…it's the only door on the right."

Jazz moved slowly in the direction of the hallway to avoid setting him off with sudden movement. She eyed the bathroom, and bypassed the door to peek into another room. The woman studied the darkened interior of the bedroom, and noticed the outside access to the balcony.

She strode across the room and silently opened the door. Jazz stood in the doorway, stretching to see the fire escape before backing into the room. _Why does it have to be the top floor? _Even the thought of descending was making her feel dizzy. _I can do this. I _have_ to do this. _She hesitated by the door, talking herself into going out in the heavy rain.

"Jazz?" Brandon's suspicious voice traveled down the hall. "What are you doing?"

Fear of being caught overrode her normal reason, and she backpedaled toward the closet. The man was inside the bedroom within seconds, and she heard him curse.

"No!" he exclaimed, rapidly moving toward the balcony door that was still ajar.

Jazz peered around the edge of the closet to watch him lingering frozen at the door. His breathing was so rapid it sounded like he was going to hyperventilate. After a few seconds Brandon darted outside, and the solution to her problem was obvious. The young woman lunged out of the closet to slam the door shut, and locked the handle.

She was all set to run out of the room when an unearthly cry shattered the air. Jazz's brain told her to keep moving, but she couldn't keep herself from looking back over her shoulder. The man was wrestling uselessly with the knob in one hand, and pounding against the glass on the door with the other.

"NO! Open it! _Open the door_!"

The pure panic in his voice was disconcerting to hear, and it only made Jazz want to leave more. She turned her head away and heard another ear-splitting shout as his fervent attack on the door increased. Jazz backed up toward the hall, but the sight of the disintegrating man was like being captured by a car accident from which she couldn't look away.

She jolted as she heard the glass pane crack under pressure. His following cry wasn't angry, but the most pitiful sound to come forth yet. Jazz traveled forward, her heart rate increasing as she stepped toward the balcony door. At the sight of blood running from his right hand, she shook her head. _I can't go through with it, or I would have left already._

Jazz flipped the lock and turned the handle of the door. She fell backwards a couple of feet as he scrambled inside the apartment.

"I'm sorry—I didn't—" she faltered as he pursued her.

Brandon shoved her across the room, cursing her name. She flattened against the wall stiffening for the expected blows, but he didn't touch her again. He was too busy pulling at the drenched sweatshirt that was clinging to his chest. It seemed to be more difficult to remove than it should have been. Jazz's fear of him ebbed somewhat as she watched him struggle with a strangled sob.

"I…I can help," she stammered.

"Get out!" He was muffled by the battle with his sweatshirt.

"I'm really sorry," she said hesitantly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Brandon's head finally emerged from underneath the shirt and he hurled it across the room, gasping as though he couldn't breathe. Jazz wasn't _trying _to stare, but she couldn't take her eyes off of him. The muscular definition of his chest was marred by wicked-looking scars that left her a little breathless too.

"Get OUT!" he ordered with tremendous effort.

Jazz hurried out of the room, but then looked back once more. The bronze-haired man flopped onto the bed, curling up to face the wall.

_This isn't right. He's too frightened. A guy that ripped, he doesn't have reason to be afraid of much. _She winced at the sight of the scarring that continued down his back. Jazz noticed him digging into his pocket, and closed the door further when she saw the phone in his hand.

Brandon still seemed to be trying to catch his breath as he held the phone up to his ear. After a lapse of a few seconds, he started talking. "Marc?" He sounded overwhelmed. "Can you get over here? I need you _now_. Yes."

He hung up the phone abruptly and buried his head in the pillow. Jazz softly shut the door the rest of the way, too ashamed to watch the man any longer. As she sank onto the couch, she realized that she still had the opportunity to run.

_But I can't go. I don't know why I got caught up inside this weird dimension, but I'm too far into it to walk away now._


	60. Black & White

Greg was accustomed to Matthew Kelley's booming voice, but he'd never had the opportunity to see the man infuriated. Now that it had happened, he only prayed he could live through the encounter, and never see his boss that angry again. Meeting somewhere to talk had turned into being cornered inside of Kelley's sedan.

"I trusted you, I put my trust in _them_, and you do something like _this_?" Kelley thundered. "I've bent over backwards to cover for you, and cooperated in keeping things quiet! 'They know how to be discreet', you said. 'They can't afford to blow their cover.' Exactly what part about a firefight that includes the use of heavy artillery is in keeping with a low profile, Heffernan?"

It was the first breath that Kelley had taken in a while, and Greg meant to take advantage of it. "Okay, first of all, you weren't there," he said evenly. "We were caught under fire from assault rifles, with nothing but a couple of handguns to defend ourselves. The result of that fight was a desperate move on their part to protect us, and no civilians were affected by it. I'm not saying that it was the best solution, but it felt like we'd been dropped inside of a warzone."

"Greg, why do your friends have access to missiles? You said they don't even _like_ guns!"

"They don't, but that won't stop the bad guys from carrying them! Do you think this is a regular thing for them, Sir, that they go out shooting up the streets on a whim? It was a reaction to a dangerous situation where lives were hanging in the balance.

"I'm sorry that it happened. I'm sorry that the Akiudo is here and serving as a threat on American soil, but that isn't our fault! The guys helped put Takashi in Prison. It was the law's job to contain him, and they couldn't do it!"

"Your friends are the reason the gang is here!"

Greg surged upright in his seat, getting up close to Kelley's face. "My _friends_ risked their lives twice to save innocent people from them! This isn't technically their job, but if they didn't do it, no one else would! They don't get compensated for putting their own necks on the line. They have no back-up, and no one to protect them!

"You want to blame them because the Akiudo is here? In a sense, I guess it _is _their fault. They're the ones who let Takashi and the other bad guys live after all! They're the ones who let 'honor' get in the way of an outright massacre! They could have wiped those men off the face of the Earth and wouldn't have needed to be accountable to anyone.

"But they're too good for that, Kelley. They will die a long time before they'll become butchers. What do you want them to do? Should they hand themselves over to the gang and surrender without a fight? Do you think _that_ would make the Akiudo go away? That their blood lust for power and dominance would magically be satisfied if the turtles took the fall? It _won't_!"

The silence in the car was deafening as Kelley sank back against the driver's seat, appearing properly admonished. The man looked a little lost as he stared out the windshield. "I'm in over my head, Greg, and I don't know what to do," he said finally. "This is outside my realm of experience. Everything in my training tells me that there's no room for compromise. I'm breaking statutes just by being aware of the infractions and doing nothing. The law is black and white, and I can't ignore it forever."

"But it's not _really_ black and white, is it?" Greg said quietly. "When someone is caught speeding to get to a dying person to help, they aren't arrested for reckless driving or ticketed, are they? If a civilian is forced to gun someone down to protect themselves from a threat, it isn't considered murder.

"Crime doesn't fit in some narrow box. You have criminals who break the law for their own selfish purposes, and then you have good people who have a valid reason for disobeying. Our Government doesn't make any allowances for vigilantes, but that doesn't mean the turtles are wrong to stand up for the innocents. It's just not as simple as being completely black and white."

Kelley swallowed and held his tongue for a little longer, resting both arms over the steering wheel. "When I heard that the first responders had found your Jeep abandoned in the middle of that inferno, I expected the worst, Greg. I thought you were dead. I can't tell you what that was like."

"I'm sorry. Maybe I should have called you right away, but my night has been insane. Everything happened very quickly, and there wasn't anything I could do about my Jeep. The engine just died on me without any warning."

"I told them it was reported stolen," Kelley said.

Greg cocked his head. "They bought that? But it wouldn't have turned up in their database."

"I told them it was a clerical error; that the license plate had a typo in the system."

"You covered for me." Greg was amazed. "Without even knowing what happened out there, you covered for me?"

"I _trust_ you," Kelley said emphatically. "Maybe more than I should. But I can't turn a blind eye to _everything,_ Greg. I can't have missiles going off all over this city! They have to find another way to dispatch these people. I don't like the risk that those weapons pose to civilians, or to their own safety. Can you make them understand that?"

"They do understand, Sir," Greg answered. "The missiles were a last resort; not something they use whenever they feel like it. I guarantee that you're never going to wake up to the morning news to hear that they took out an entire city block. They wouldn't do anything to cause the deaths of citizens, not even if they all had to die instead. I hope you believe that."

"I do believe it, or I'm trying to, I should say."

"Also, I'm not your go-between with the guys anymore. You've been inside their home. You have their phone numbers. _Talk_ to Leonardo, Sir. If you're not certain that you can trust them, you need to take the time to converse with them. They'll make a believer out of you."

Kelley exhaled, seeming hypnotized by the rainfall. "I need to go home," he murmured. "I've been putting in too many extra hours to search."

"Search for what?"

"The Akiudo. I've been combing through so much surveillance from the airport that my eyes might be going crossed permanently."

The sandy-haired man smirked. "Welcome to my world."

Greg's phone vibrated and he drew it inconspicuously out of his pocket to see that he had a text message. "Pardon me, Sir." He flipped the device open and brought up a message from Marc's phone.

_Brandon – 811._

The text was alarming in its brevity and Greg swore.

"What's wrong?" Kelley asked instantly.

"It's Bran – they need me. I've got to get back to the apartment."

Kelley hadn't driven very far from the apartment building to begin with, and it only took his boss approximately eight minutes to get them around to the front doors.

"Hey. I hope everything is all right," Kelley said.

"Me too," Greg returned.

"I'll call you with details on the investigation at the docks. Maybe there's something left of those SUVs that can help us, but I'm not holding my breath."

Greg nodded. "I'd appreciate it."

"I want to be kept in the loop too – don't forget that."

"I will, Sir. I'm sorry I wasn't more up front with you about tonight. I'll tell you the entire story later, but I should go for now."

"Okay. Be careful, huh?"

Greg darted through the rain to get back inside the building, and rolled his eyes impatiently as he waited on the elevator. _I feel like I spend half my life either waiting for or riding inside of some stupid elevator. _He hit the button for his level, crossing and uncrossing his arms over the short journey up the building.

Greg trotted quickly through the hall with the key already in hand. He had no idea what to expect when he walked into the apartment, but it wasn't the calm stillness that met him. He raised a hand to greet Caleb on the couch, and turned to look at Jazz, who was curled up in a chair.

"What's happening with Brandon? Where is he?" Greg demanded.

"There was a…uh…a misunderstanding," Caleb said haltingly. "Everything is all right now. He was really worked up when we first got here, but Marcus finally got him settled down a couple of minutes ago. Brandon's right hand needs some attention, and Marc is taking care of him."

Greg's gaze was drawn to Jazz again, and he noted the way she cringed. "Are _you_ all right?" he asked.

"He scared me," she said softly. "I wanted to run, and I thought he wasn't going to let me go. So I…I tricked him out onto the balcony and locked the door."

"In the _rain_," Greg said bleakly. "Geez, that didn't end well, did it?"

"No. He cracked the glass pane on the door. He was so afraid that I couldn't bring myself to leave. Then I wanted to help him, but he was too upset."

Greg sighed heavily as he glanced down the hall. "I'm sorry, Jazz. This is _my_ fault, again. I should have prepared you, but I wasn't expecting my boss to track me down that quickly. Brandon didn't hurt you, did he?"

She shook her head. "I thought he was going to, but no. Greg, what is his _deal_? I knew there was something weird about him the minute I walked in the door. And his reaction to getting locked out…I would have understood anger, but not pure terror. That wasn't normal."

"No, it isn't," Greg agreed as he sat down on the couch. He cast another look down the hall to double-check that the doors were closed, and turned his attention back to Jazz. "The gang you had the distinct displeasure of meeting tonight was the catalyst for the broken man you saw. About two months ago Brandon was kidnapped, right out of our apartment. Members of the Akiudo had him for three days.

"Due to extenuating circumstances, it took us that long to _realize_ that he was missing. In that length of time he was abused physically and mentally, then he was also tortured. None of us know the extent of what they did to him. The only thing we're sure of is that they waterboarded him for several hours before he was rescued."

Jazz's brow creased. "That's nasty stuff. I saw scars," she admitted.

"They're related to the incident with the Akiudo," Caleb inserted. "Unfortunately he's dealing with both visible _and_ invisible scars."

"Post-Traumatic Stress?" she suggested.

Greg nodded. "Did he say anything like that to you?"

"Me? He didn't want me anywhere near him. I should have put two and two together earlier. A guy like him with the discipline and stamina to get in that good of shape…Paranoia and terror just don't fit the profile. I didn't mean to trigger something. He wasn't hurting me. I should have stayed where I was, but I got freaked out. I'm freaked out by _all_ of you punks, and I don't know how I'm going to feel safe again."

"That's my fault too," Greg said. "I'm sorry for everything, Jazz."

The young woman held his gaze steadily. "Is my life in danger? Is there a good reason for me to be this scared?"

He wanted to comfort her, but he couldn't bring himself to lie. "Yes. For the time being, you're better off assuming that you're in danger. I don't know how the Akiudo found me, or whether they'll be able to track you. That woman who had you tonight is Takashi's right hand, and she knows that you exist now."

"Takashi is the dude who got sprung from Prison?"

"That's right."

"And now they're here in the US to make all of our worst nightmares come true?"

"Something like that," Greg said. "But given the proper intelligence, we'll track the gang down and stop them. The turtles have done it before, and they'll do it again."

"Doesn't sound like the Akiudo learned their lesson," Jazz muttered. "Maybe your guys ought to try pounding them a little harder."

Greg smiled. "That's on everyone's 'to do' list." He felt his phone vibrate again, and checked the screen to see Leonardo's number pop up. "I should take this. Just a minute, guys."

The man took a deep breath before answering. "Hi, Leo, what's up? You didn't hear from Kelley, did you?"

"Not a thing, Greg. Did he already contact you?"

"Yeah – he completely covered my tail with the Jeep issue, but he's got a few words for you guys about the missiles."

The turtle groaned. "I'm sure he does, but that's not why I'm calling. Out of the black hole of a disaster that this evening turned out to be, we've got one seriously bright spot."

"What's that, we're _alive_?" Greg asked wryly.

"Okay, two bright spots," Leo corrected.

"What's the other one?"

"Don's talking."

Greg jolted up on the edge of the couch. "He's _talking_, talking?"

"Raph and I went to tell him about the evening and how it went down with the Battleshell. He looked like he was about to go ballistic, and the next thing we knew, he was speaking."

Greg laughed loudly, a sound that felt like it was in complete defiance of the events of that night. "He must have been _ticked_ about those missiles. I'd be scared if I was Raph."


	61. Reassurance

Donatello huffed with crossed arms as he glared at his red-masked brother. It had only been about an hour since he was capable of making the sound, but that was irrelevant right now.

"Are you still pouting?" Raphael asked.

"I can't _believe_ you used the missiles!" Don complained.

"Genius, I'm done defending myself. I did what I had to in order to help our friends, end of story. You and Leo are gonna have to get over this."

Donny shook his head. "I'm not going to 'get over' missing that, Raph."

His brother grinned at him. "I'm sorry _you_ didn't get to do it, Donny, but those Akiudo weren't gonna wait for me to come get you."

The purple-masked turtle sighed and cleared his throat painfully. He couldn't obtain very much power with his voice, but it was still an amazing feeling to be _able_ to speak. The happiness over that fact was tempered with the irritation over the Akiudo's attack, and the news that the gang had cleanly escaped.

The media feed he'd read only mentioned one dead, and indicated that the police hadn't caught up with any of the shooters. In the back of his mind, Donatello was worried about the possibility of retaliation on the Akiudo's part for the destruction of the SUVs, but he wasn't going to say that to his brothers.

"You okay, Donny?" Raphael's voice lost some of its normal gruffness as he addressed him. "Do you need something?"

"I need a lot of things, Raph, but they aren't something you can bring me," he said honestly.

"You sure? I could make another trip to the surface," he offered impishly.

Donatello cracked a smile. "You'd have to go through Leo first."

"Seriously, Don. This is your chance to ask for anything or say whatever's been on your mind for months. What are you thinking?"

"I wish we had a _real_ lead on the Akiudo," he answered.

"Maybe we do, Donny. I mean, Greg and Sayuri brought those drives back. Maybe there's something on them."

"I don't know…" Donatello faltered. _It seems to me that if the Agency was all that important to them, they would have been keeping a closer eye on the business. They could have been watching I suppose – it would explain how they found Greg. But what made them hesitate for so long to make a move?_

Donny wanted to dive right into the flashdrives with both feet, but Luke wouldn't allow it. The man didn't even want him talking very much, but the turtle wasn't willing to relinquish the sweet freedom. He was surprised that Luke hadn't already returned to the room to break up the conversation he was having with Raphael.

He was intrigued that his brother had stayed for this long too, and it made him wonder what _he_ was thinking. As he glanced over at Raphael now, his brother's amber eyes appeared to be glazed over.

"Maybe I shoulda just went for the kill, Donny, and unloaded _more_ firepower on them. I couldn't have made it much worse than I already did."

Donatello shook his head. "I've given you a hard time, but it's mostly because I would have liked to _see_ the missile system I designed in action. It sounds like you played it as safely as you could have. You didn't destroy any private property besides the Akiudo's transportation, and you didn't let any civilians get a look at what the Battleshell is capable of. If there was a place to unload the big guns, the docks are one of the best locations I can imagine."

Raphael seemed uncertain as he looked up. "You think I did the right thing? God knows we're gonna have our shells chewed off by Kelley for it. I'll tell him that it was my doing, that _I_ was the one who flew off the handle."

"With the weapons system _I_ created and installed," Don said wryly. "It doesn't seem like you flew off the handle, Bro. You defended our friends the best way you could think of, and you destroyed their ability to follow you. The Akiudo could have brought that firestorm back inside the neighborhoods. Tactically speaking, you did the right thing, Raph."

His brother exhaled softly. "Thanks, Genius. I think I needed to hear that."

"Don't worry about Kelley," Donny advised him. "We'll face him together, and everything will be okay."

The red-masked turtle smirked as he patted his arm. "What's say I kick myself outta here before Doc does?"

Donatello smiled in return. "Sure. Why not surprise him for a change?"

"Shell, it's good to hear your voice again, Don."

"It's nice to _have_ a voice," he replied.

Raphael rose with a stretch, and cracked his neck from side to side. "Well…I'll see ya in the morning, Bro."

"I'll still be here." Donatello settled back against his pillow as his brother left. _Where else can I go, _he asked himself. _Doesn't this just figure? I get my voice back, but I'm still moaning about being too laid up to chase the Akiudo. I wish I could focus on being grateful, but I can't stop thinking about that gang._

_They're out there, and they tried to take Greg tonight. They attempted to gun down our friends. The Akiudo have never used rifles like that before, but they've never used chemical weapons on civilians either. At least, not that we're aware of. _He clenched his eyes shut for a moment.

_They've had months, well over a year and a half to regroup their efforts, but where has their energy gone? What's their real objective? It could drive me crazy to lie here and wonder about their new methods for destroying people's lives. I'm definitely not going to figure it out tonight, _he resigned silently.

_I'm going to have plenty to do tomorrow between reviewing the flashdrives and doing some additional background on that girl they picked up. Shell. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Part of me feels sorry for her, and the other part is hoping she doesn't prove to be a liability._

Donatello had tried to picture what Jazz could look like based on Leonardo's description, but he had a feeling his imagination wouldn't do her justice. _She's probably going to lose her job over all this. _The thought made him groan. _We have to find a way to make things right, _and_ to keep her safe. Open enrollment in the Club is back in session. I just hope we can trust an ex-con._

He rolled his eyes. _I haven't even met her, _he chided himself_. It sounds like she's supporting herself with an honest job. Why do we have to be so suspicious of everyone? I guess being a five-foot-tall mutated turtle might have something to do with it._

Donny shifted onto his side as he heard the space heater kick on again, reveling in the increased warmth that made him feel both more comfortable and wearier at the same time. He'd had it in mind to stay awake until Doc returned, with the intention of peppering the man with a few more questions. _That might be why he's staying away, _he told himself.

Despite the circumstances of the evening, he was still able to rest his head in relative peace, knowing that the girls and kids had made it to Lotus Salvus, and their other friends were safe for another day. _Take what you can get and be happy for it, _he thought drowsily, right before drifting off.

* * *

><p>When Donatello stirred, he couldn't be sure how many hours had passed. He turned his head to the right and saw his raven-haired wife slouched over a desk chair. Her dark waves were falling so that they covered almost half of her face, but he could tell that she was asleep.<p>

He sighed quietly. _I wonder if she's getting any real sleep on her own. I have no way of checking up on her, _he thought ruefully. Donatello reached for his phone to find out what time it was. _After 9am. That's later than I expected. It still sounds quiet, but I guess that's normal after the evening everyone had._

For a few seconds, he considered waking up Jenna. His first instinct was not to bother her, but with the recovery of his voice, he couldn't resist calling out to her. "Jen. Jenna."

The woman's head jerked up, and she brushed her hair back off her face. "Hey, you," she said affectionately. "How does the throat feel?"

"It's okay; I'm still really dry."

Jenna looked around the room until she spotted a water bottle on the desk, and brought it over to him. The woman smiled as he eagerly consumed about a quarter of the contents. "I bet you're hungry too."

Donatello gave her a pained look. The inability to swallow properly had required him to live off the IV for everything, and he was thoroughly sick of it. "You have no idea. I could go for a full-on feast, but I know Doc will force me to take it easy."

"He knows best," she reminded him, and released a satisfied-sounding sigh. "Babe, it's great to hear your voice. You've had it so hard that I didn't want to complain, but I've _missed_ talking to you. I missed it a lot."

"I missed it too." He grinned, motioning for her to come closer.

Jenna leaned over the bed where he could reach her, and he brushed a hand over her hair, enjoying the feeling of the silky strands. Her light blue eyes gazed at him longingly, and he felt an intense stirring of pity. _Jen's had to be strong for both of us. She deserves a break. _He looked back at her silently, marveling over all the curves of her face.

"You're incredible, Jen. I don't know what I'd do without you here. But you're taking care of yourself too, aren't you?"

She gave him a withering smile. "Right to the point? You _wouldn't_ just let me enjoy this for a few minutes."

He gave her a mock stern look. "Jen, I'm not trying to ruin anything. You're exhausted. I can tell you haven't been sleeping. I'm only asking you to get the proper amount of rest. Isn't that what you get on _my_ case about?"

"I'm not the coffee-addicted night owl who spends all hours looking for trouble on the surface in between programming."

"No, you're not. You're my beautiful wife who's worried about me. I've given you plenty to be anxious about over the past few weeks, but things _are_ improving."

Jenna gave him a probing look. "I can see that, Donny, but some of the mental images I have of you are going to stay with me for a long time."

"It's never that simple for everything to go back to normal, is it?"

"Things can't be normal – not with the Akiudo roaming free to threaten the city, and our family broken up into pieces."

Donatello swallowed. "Nobody likes it when we're separated, Jen. We just have to slog through it until the guys can find the gang. I'll do everything I can to help from here, but I'm still…limited." Frustration pulsed in the back of his mind. _I've been lucky to find any information at all, and so far it hasn't done them any good. Shell, I don't know what they'll do when they come up against a real technical challenge._

"Your brothers will work this out," Jenna said, reading his mind. "I know you feel a strong burden when it comes to assisting them, but there are unconventional ways around these things."

He folded his arms. "You mean like using the van as a battering ram?"

Jenna grinned. "Desperate times, Donny," she reminded him. "It worked, didn't it?"

"You're lucky you didn't get shot."

"Are you _ever_ going to give me a little bit of credit? I know you don't want me anywhere near the danger, but sometimes we don't have that luxury, Don. When we need all hands on deck, you've got to accept that the 'civilians' have a part to play too."

Donatello was quiet as he brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. "You seem to be under the impression that I think you're weak, Jenna."

"I know I don't belong in the middle of one of your fights—"

"Jen, hear me out. You think I underestimate what you can do physically, and that's not true. We've been through this before. My brothers and I fight because we have to—"

"I'm not a warrior, so I shouldn't try to protect you," she interrupted shortly.

"That's not what I said."

"It's what you _mean_."

"No. What I mean is that it would kill me to lose you. I'm selfish in that sense, Jen. I'd rather die a thousand different ways than have to live without you. Any time that my brothers or I pull you back, it's only because you mean so much to us. There aren't many people who could handle living inside our world…and I don't think there's anyone else who could fill this space in my life."

"You have to let me be 'selfish' sometimes, Don, because I don't want to live in a world that doesn't include you either."


	62. Quiet

Leonardo sipped tea slowly as he watched the Headline News. The story of the debacle from the night before had made the loop, meaning it was being replayed every half hour or so.

_Careless. We cut it way too close with the Akiudo. If those cops had been any faster to respond, we might have had trouble on _two_ fronts._ He'd been watching for about two hours, and was still hoping to hear whether any members of the gang had been picked up. _That's too much to hope for I suppose. Even though they were stuck on foot, they're still good at disappearing, this we know._

Finding out whether the police had found any of the gang members could have been as easy as calling Kelley, but Leonardo wasn't looking forward to talking to the man. _I can't avoid him forever, but I don't need to poke that hornets' nest yet. I think it's better to let things settle down before I go looking for trouble, _he thought ruefully. _But I can't keep watching the News either. It's too darn depressing._

The blue-masked turtle sighed as he reached for the remote and turned the TV off. _The Media doesn't get these stories right 80% of the time anyway. They're definitely not the best source for this type of information._

He took another drink of his tea, and considered checking whether Donatello was awake again. Leonardo was trying to pace himself, even though he was dying to talk to his younger brother. _But I'm sure _everyone_ wants a conversation with him. We need to remember to give him some room to breathe._

Leo smiled suddenly at the thought of Donny's first exclamation the night before. It had seemed to shock his purple-masked brother as much as it had surprised him and Raphael. _We're lucky we still have him, _he thought soberly. _Don could have been a goner. Even with everything that's gone wrong in the last few weeks, things still aren't as bad as they could be._

He folded his arms across his plastron as the slight chill in the air reminded him of the cold bed in which he'd slept alone the night before. _I hope everything is all right with the girls. But why wouldn't they be okay? They're smart, they're resourceful. They can take care of themselves and the kids._

Leonardo turned his head as he heard footsteps, and noticed his youngest brother slowly descending the stairs to the ground floor. He studied Michelangelo as the orange-masked turtle entered the living area and sank into a chair without uttering a single word.

"Hey, Mike," Leo greeted. "Good morning."

"Morning," he said half-heartedly.

"Are you feeling okay?" Leonardo asked carefully. Not even a year had passed since the ailment that had threatened his youngest brother's life, and he often found himself still paying attention to Mike's energy level.

"I'm _fine_, Leo," he insisted. "It's just too quiet."

Leonardo was tempted to roll his eyes at himself. _Of course, dummy. He misses his girl and his baby. He's never been separated from Nate before. Shell, Raph hasn't been cut off from Liv since she was born either._

"Have you talked to Becky?" Leo asked.

Mike nodded. "I called her when I woke up. It's weird to sleep that long without hearing the baby. Beck told me to take advantage of the extra rest, but that's the last thing I feel like doing."

Leonardo nodded sympathetically. "I know. It feels empty around here without them, but this is temporary, Mikey. We'll catch up with them soon."

His brother cocked his head curiously. "We'll catch up with _them_?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Wouldn't you like to go back to Lotus Salvus?"

"Can we leave right now?" Mike gave him a wry smile.

"It'd be nice, wouldn't it? The Blue Ridge Mountains will still be waiting for us after we've finished the Akiudo."

"Kinda makes me want to find them _more_," Mike emphasized.

Leonardo opened his mouth to respond just as his phone rang. His eyes landed on the device that was sitting on the coffee table, and he reached to retrieve it. "Hello?"

"Leo, we have a problem," Greg said tightly.

"That's just what I love to hear first thing. Is Bran—"

"This isn't about Brandon or our new guest," Greg interrupted. "It's about my Jeep. I got a call from Kelley a couple of minutes ago, and he was able to give me some information. The investigators already processed my car due to the priority of the case."

"They're not going to connect you to that firefight, are they?"

"No – Kelley covered for me, remember? I _wish_ that was the only problem."

"What's going on, Heff? What did they find?"

"My car didn't _just_ die, Leo. It was tampered with. Someone installed a 'kill switch' that would knock out the engine on the appropriate signal."

It took Leonardo a moment to process the information. "The Akiudo screwed with your Jeep?"

"That's not all they did," he replied grimly. "Leo, they bugged me. They planted a tracking device on the undercarriage of my car. I was all worried about them tracking me through some GPS chip in that stupid phone, and I missed the _bigger_ problem right under my nose!"

Leonardo's head felt like it was spinning. "When did they have the chance to do something like that? They didn't know where to look for you to begin with!"

"I think it's pretty obvious, Leo. They must have been lying in wait for me the day I showed up at the Field office to pick up that package. If Kelley hadn't decided to follow me outside, who knows what could have happened?"

His heart sank further inside his chest. "You're all in danger. The Akiudo might try investigating anywhere you drove. You need to get off the surface."

"I agree, but we still have the other loose end to worry about. What are we supposed to do about Jazz? I take full responsibility for her, Leo; I _know_ this is my fault. She didn't want to be alone last night, and I'm still not sure how she feels now. I could take her home, but I'm feeling paranoid too. I'm not sure if the Akiudo could track her, but they've already proven how far they're willing to go. I personally don't want to leave her alone."

"You have to find out where she's at, Heff. There are too many uncertainties regarding the Akiudo. I'd rather that all of you abandon the surface. If that means bringing Jazz with you, well…that's what you need to do."

"Bran is ready to get back underground, in any case. He was traumatized really badly last night, and of course he feels bad about cracking the glass in the balcony door."

Leonardo winced. "I hope it doesn't set him back."

"Things are pretty awkward between the two of them," Greg confessed.

"We can make anything work, Heff. Talk to her. Make sure she understands that it's her choice to come down here, but she needs to be aware of the danger too."

"She knows all about the danger, Leo. Jazz was _there_ last night."

The blue-masked turtle sighed. "The ball is in her court. I don't think I'd want anything more to do with us if I was her."

"But she's obviously scared, Leo, or she would have bolted at the first opportunity."

"I can't believe she stayed after Bran flipped out." Leo shook his head. "I think _that _took some guts."

"She's something else, Leo," Greg agreed. "We've got a lot to learn about her."

* * *

><p>Takashi had neither slept nor addressed Yukiko since the team had returned to the building the night before. The man was angry enough that he'd forced himself to hold off from speaking with his second until he was certain that he could control his temper. This morning he hadn't bothered to seek the woman out either, but had sent someone else to summon her.<p>

Takashi focused on the calm from his chair, and gazed at the expansive windows that displayed the cityscape outside. _The Shitenno are nothing like I imagined they would be from my Grandfather's stories. The Guardian spirits of the Earth are supposed to be concerned with _our_ people, not this meddling country._

_But then, it's possible that their "hosts" have influenced their location. The spirits claimed that the Turtles don't have them on a leash, yet the Shitenno choose to stay. They are a mystery far beyond me, I'm afraid. I would prefer to maintain contact with them, but if the spirits are not cooperative, I will have to let them go._

_What I _cannot_ do is allow the Turtles to retain them any longer, even if that means losing the only remaining link I have to the Shitenno. It is better to bid them farewell than to allow our enemies to keep them._

Takashi sensed Yukiko lingering in the doorway behind him, but chose to ignore her for a few more seconds. _Taking Heffernan should have been a simple task; I didn't even hesitate to entrust her with it. But it is clear Yukiko has forgotten what it means to operate _quietly_._

He cleared his throat. "_Come in, Yukiko-san_."

Takashi barely heard the soft _swish_ of fabric as the woman entered the room. Yukiko wisely remained silent, waiting for him to speak. He turned around in his chair to see her, and found the woman kneeling in a _seiza_ position.

"_I trust you slept as well as I_," he said sarcastically.

Yukiko kept her mouth shut, no doubt realizing he didn't mean for her to speak yet.

"_Last night…I don't know where to begin, Yukiko-san. What _possessed_ you to allow the men to discharge rifles in that fashion?"_

"_I didn't give orders for that assault, Takashi-sama," _she said evenly.

"_Then how did it _happen_, Yukiko-san?" _he asked sharply. _"They are your men to command and control. They should not be able to sneeze without your permission. Do I honestly need to instruct you on how to handle your ranks?"_

"_No, Takashi-sama," _she said quietly.

"_Then explain! How did such a display take place in public where the Authorities would be drawn to investigate?"_

"_Heffernan had a gun, and we had to force him to surrender," _she said a little defensively.

"_That's not the part I have a problem with, Yukiko-san. Why did they _use_ the weapons?"_

"_The Shitenno and their human counterparts arrived quite suddenly. The gunmen reacted without any command from me. Everything happened quickly, and it was all I could do to prevent them from firing at the demons. I know you want to take them alive—"_

"_And they could have easily been injured in that gun battle!" _Takashi interrupted angrily. "_Don't you see all the complications that could have arisen from your ill-fated encounter?"_

"_I do," _she answered. _"I acknowledge that I should have controlled the men."_

Takashi glared at her. _"We walk a dangerous line, Yukiko-san. Our ability to remain invisible is the greatest advantage we have. It is clear that the use of firearms over this last year and a half has weakened some of your better skills."_

Annoyance flashed in her dark eyes. _"I am _not_ weakened, Takashi-sama. Last night was a mistake that will not be repeated."_

"_You are correct, because those assault rifles are going to be temporarily retired."_

"_Takashi-sama, they are only a tool. I prefer to use my hands as opposed to a weapon of that nature, but do you need to hear how the fight ended again? The Shitenno had large guns of their own!"_

"_When have they _ever_ chosen to use artillery against us, Yukiko-san? I have heard from their own mouths that they prefer to fight with honor. On this particular point, I happen to agree. The guns are a necessary evil for our objective against the United States, but I will _not_ have the Shitenno killed under a hailstorm of bullets."_

"_Is there to be no retaliation for their actions last night?" _She fumed.

"_Patience, Yukiko-san. Your view of retaliation is far too small. You cannot forget _why_ we are here. The Shitenno are only half of the equation. For decades the United States has invaded where they don't belong, and it is finally time to respond. Everything is still coming into position, but the technicians are confident they will be able to harness the facility for their use."_

Yukiko nodded. _"I will collect the rifles, Takashi-sama. It will not happen again."_

"_It had better not. There is far too much riding upon the next few days." _Takashi waved his hand at her. "_You are dismissed. For now_."


	63. Motive

Jazz was experiencing another moment in time that felt so unrealistic, she caught herself blinking rapidly several times. _Did I have a temporary lapse in sanity? Why did I agree to this deal? I feel like I'm about to walk onto the set of "Silence of the Lambs." _She scanned the Slider to look at the other faces surrounding her. _I'm lost inside a sea of males – my specialty, _she thought sarcastically.

She barely looked at Brandon. He'd kept to himself for the remainder of the night before, and hadn't so much as made eye contact with her since. Jazz focused much longer on the orange-masked turtle, who was expertly guiding the strange vessel as if he'd done it a million times.

_Is it possible that I'm having some mental break from reality? I don't understand how something this huge remains hidden, especially if they're running around on the streets. _A jolt of sudden panic ran through her mind. _Maybe _this_ is how it stays hidden. Maybe they're getting rid of me, and I'm heading right into a deathtrap! _Jazz contemplated the possibility. _It doesn't feel like that's what this is though. They don't need to take me underground to kill me after all. _Jazz shivered involuntarily.

"You're going to be all right," Marcus said suddenly.

Jazz looked at the soft-spoken man.

"All of us have experienced some trepidation on our first trip down here. I almost hyperventilated," he offered.

She managed a small smile. "When did you stop asking yourself if everything was real?"

"About a month ago," he quipped, and chuckled. "You'll get there. The more time you spend around the guys, the more you'll realize that they're not so different from us."

"It's not just the turtles," she replied. "It's the gang, the plots, and this psycho Asian dude who broke out of Prison. This kind of thing doesn't happen in everyday life."

"Yes it does," Greg replied. "Most people just don't know about it. There's always more going on underneath the calm façade than you usually get to see."

Jazz's eyebrows rose. "I guess that's true. What does the average person even know about how our military operates in foreign countries? You can see pictures from the Media, but they don't tell the real stories of the horrors they experience." _It's no wonder some of them come back changed, _she added inwardly, with a powerful wave of sadness.

Jazz ducked her head close to her chest and took a deep breath to control her emotions. Fortunately no one seemed to notice in the semi-darkness.

"Our place ain't so bad," Mike called from the control panel. "We'll keep you safe _and_ entertained. Just ask any of our friends."

"This is true," Tim spoke up. "I can't recall being bored where this family is concerned."

"How much further?" Jazz asked the turtle.

"It's not far," he replied. "Nothing to worry about. Don't forget that _we're _the good guys. We've got some killer video games too."

Jazz shook her head. _They are _so_ strange. To look at them, you'd imagine they were the most dangerous creatures that ever walked the streets. But to hear _him_ talk, this is like some extended slumber party. Am I going to be able to leave after I see this place? _Jazz swallowed and took a couple of deep breathes. _Now stop it. You're being ridiculous. Their friends know the whole story, and they're free to come and go as they please. I just need to convince them that I'm not any threat to their security._

She stole another glance at Brandon, and noticed that his rigid posture had relaxed somewhat. _He feels safer here. It's got to be okay, or he wouldn't be able to handle it so calmly._

Jazz's heart skipped as she felt the Slider slowing down. The turtle was the first one to leap off the vessel onto the concrete side. She found a couple of the other men looking at her expectantly, like they wanted her to go next. Mike held out his hand to her, and she took it more willingly than the last time he'd offered.

"Um…this looks like a dead end," she mentioned.

Michelangelo laughed. _"_It _looks_ like one, sure. We can't have visitors just strolling on up to our home. We like our privacy, and our fans tend to get a little nutty from time to time." The turtle winked at her.

Jazz cocked her head curiously. She wasn't sure how seriously to take the turtle, but it _sounded_ like he was joking. The young woman held her breath as he opened the door that hadn't existed a few seconds before.

"C'mon in," he invited her casually, as if there was nothing strange about any of the circumstances.

She let out the breath she'd been holding as she laid eyes on the interior…which appeared to be a perfectly comfortable living space by most anyone's standards. Jazz looked around for the other turtles, but her eyes widened when she found three women sitting down instead.

Jazz recognized the Asian woman from the Travel Agency the night before, but the other two were unfamiliar. She didn't particularly mind that they were strangers; she was simply relieved not to be the only female inside the testosterone-laden group. The youngest of the three women gazed at Jazz with clear apprehension in her light blue eyes.

"Hey, ladies," Mike said affectionately. "Make room for a new friend; this is Jazz." He turned to face her. "This is Jenna, Sayuri, and Katherine," he introduced in turn.

"Hello." When the raven-haired woman spoke, Jazz detected her Australian accent. "Welcome to our home," she said guardedly.

Jazz squirmed uncomfortably, suddenly experiencing the familiar sensation of being naked in the middle of the room with everyone watching her. Mike took her lightly by the arm and led her to a chair.

"Take a load off, Jazz. It's all right. You're surrounded by a bunch of people you don't know, but they're all cool."

As the men filtered through the room, Jazz was surprised to hear Brandon speak something that sounded like Spanish. The bronze-haired woman responded, and Jazz immediately connected the pair. _They've got to be related. They speak Spanish, that girl is Australian, and then there's the Asian chick…I feel like I just signed on to the United Nations._

"You don't have to be afraid of us, not so long as you know how to keep your mouth shut," Jenna told her in what _almost_ seemed to be a friendly overture.

_I think I've entered the Paranoia Capital of the world. Why did I agree to come down here?_

"I'm not a threat to any of you," Jazz stated. "As a matter-of-fact, your people are the ones who got _me_ into trouble."

"I've apologized as many ways as I know how," Greg called helplessly.

"I'm only trying to put things back in perspective," Jazz clarified. "So we're straight, I didn't do anything. I'm only here because I got dragged into this."

Before anyone else could speak, a door to an adjoining room opened.

"Hi, Jazz," Leonardo greeted her. "Welcome."

She shrugged her shoulders at his words. _It doesn't really feel like it, but we'll see what happens._

"Our other brother would like to meet you," Leonardo said.

_If it gets me out of this room, I'm game. _"Where is he?" she asked.

"You're going to have to come to him," the blue-masked turtle answered. "He isn't mobile right now."

Jazz nodded and gratefully followed Leonardo into the next room. Her jaw dropped when she saw the interior, and for a few moments, she couldn't move. Her grey eyes drank in every technical detail of the space, from expensive-looking mounted monitors, to interesting devices that she couldn't even identify.

The young woman heard a chuckle to her right, and caught Leonardo's smile. It was an odd sight on the face of the serious warrior from the night before.

"This is Don's Lab," he explained.

"He built it?"

"I had some help," a second voice addressed her.

Jazz tore herself away from the machinery long enough to realize that there _was_ another turtle in the room, sitting up in what appeared to be a hospital bed. "Those are your computers?"

"Yeah; I modified the factory models. I'm not really into the mass-produced cookie-cutter style machines."

Jazz gazed at the purple-masked turtle a moment longer, and returned to looking around the room. "This is…way more than I expected to see down here."

"There's often a lot more to things than immediately meets the eye," Donny said. "Why don't you sit down?" He motioned to a nearby desk chair.

"You're going to be okay, Don?" Leonardo asked from the door.

"We'll be fine," the other turtle said calmly.

Jazz lowered into the desk chair. "So you're Donny."

"Mmhm. You like computers, huh?"

"Sure. They're cool," she said vaguely, as if she could take them or leave them.

"I like them too," he replied, and she sensed there was a veiled meaning behind his tone. "I'm self-taught, of course. It was mostly trial and error in the beginning, until I could get access to the Internet."

"How _do_ you maintain a decent signal down here?"

"I designed a device that boosts the normal output. It's effective."

"Do you have some kind of specialty?" she asked cautiously.

"No…not really. I'm interested in a lot of things. What about you?" he asked pointedly. "What did you study at MIT?"

_He knows all about my record, _she realized at once. "I was into programming," Jazz said stiffly.

"What about in private?"

"You know all about Daystar, don't you?" Jazz got to her feet. "My whole story is already recorded. Why do you need to hear it from _me_?"

"Computers don't tell stories – _people_ do. Only you can fill in between the lines and provide the motivation. That's what I really want to hear, Jazz. Why Daystar?"

"Why does it matter?" she demanded. "I broke the law, I was punished, and I'm _still_ being punished."

"I think the _reason_ that you have for doing something matters."

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me," he challenged. "Sit down. I don't want to judge you. I'm just trying to find out where you were coming from."

Jazz hesitated for a minute. She had no desire to run through the same story that had been discounted by so many individuals that she was tempted to doubt it herself.

"Jazz, we've made ourselves completely vulnerable to you," Donatello said. "All I'm asking for is a little understanding into your actions."

The young woman looked down at the floor, cursing under her breath. She shrugged her shoulders as she began telling the story yet again. "My second year at MIT, I met someone. He was brilliant, intriguing…and a little dark. Completely different from any guy I'd ever been involved with. He introduced me to the world _outside_ MIT, where the rules were different. It was the first experience I'd ever had with bona-fide crackers."

Donatello nodded as if he understood, but she still felt like she needed to explain.

"You may know that there's a difference between hackers and crackers—"

"I do," he said swiftly. "The Media has popularized the 'hacker' term, but 'cracker' is more correct when it comes to illegal territory. Go on."

"I knew that the group engaged in activities that I didn't need to be a part of. But I fit in with those people like I was made to be there, and I couldn't remember ever feeling that comfortable in my own skin. I didn't think anything they were doing was truly detrimental, so I compromised.

"I hung out with them for several weeks before I began doing any of the cracking. I didn't think I'd be any good right off the bat, but my guy pushed me. The first time I got past a firewall, it was the biggest rush…and I just wanted to do it again. I had several 'projects' over a couple of months, which never involved doing anything really malicious. I wasn't destroying anything. I enjoyed the freedom of trespassing and going places where I wasn't supposed to be.

"Things got pretty competitive with the other crackers after a while, and one of them issued me a personal challenge. Daystar Information Systems." Jazz couldn't quite meet the turtle's brown eyes. "It was only a game to me. I took the challenge, even though I wasn't sure I'd be able to crack them. Their gatekeeper was supposed to be really impressive, but I went for it, and it ended up being outdated.

"I did my part of getting in, and suddenly, my guy took over. It happened so fast, and I had no clue what he was doing. All I did was sit back and watch him sift through information so quickly it made me feel dizzy. I was a bystander at that point, but I knew something was off. It didn't feel like a game anymore. The entire atmosphere changed, and it was one of the most awful feelings I've ever had.

"I told myself it was time to walk away, but I didn't leave. About…an hour after I cracked Daystar, the cops showed up. I've never been able to figure out how they traced me, let alone that quickly. My signal was being routed through Asia—"

"Even an outdated gatekeeper can have its secrets," he interjected.

"You know something about Labyrinth?"

"It doesn't matter right now," he replied. "So the cops showed up."

"Yeah. They confiscated all the computers, and took the five of us into custody. They narrowed the break-in down to my computer, which, once again…I don't know how. I used the best safeguards. They shouldn't have been able to connect it to the crime. To make matters worse, they found discs with stolen technology in _my_ purse."

"And you had no idea how they got there?"

"No, I know how they ended up there. _That_ was the moment the light bulb went off in my head, and I realized that I was being set up to take the fault for everything. I took the fall for Daystar by myself, and all my supposed friends were never charged with a single crime after agreeing to testify against me.

"My motivation was nothing but pride, Donny. I'm guilty of many things, but I was _never_ a thief," she finished with irritation. The turtle's gaze felt as if it was sharp enough to drill right through her, but she refused to look away.

"They used you," he said at last.

"Like the sucker I am," she said bitterly. "And I got to be made an example of for everyone else."

Donatello's eyes softened. "There's more than meets the eye with you too, Jazz."

"That appears to be the theme today."


	64. Direction

Leonardo nodded approvingly at Sayuri after sipping his tea. He was forced to admit that the Asian woman had a better hand for that particular brew than anyone other than his Sensei. Drinking it produced a reminiscent feeling of spending quiet time in the kitchen with Splinter. Even when their tea time didn't include much speech, Leonardo usually came away feeling comfortable and warm. Something about Sayuri's semi-formal manner increased the sense of déjà vu even further.

Sayuri gave the blue-masked turtle a questioning glance, as if she didn't believe he liked the tea as much as he'd indicated. "The Sencha can strike some as having a 'vegetal' flavor. I would have been happy to make you something else, Leonardo-san."

Leonardo chuckled. "Sayuri, it's completely appropriate. I grew up on this tea; it was one of the blends that my Sensei favored. You'd have a hard sell with my brothers, but I'll never refuse the Sencha. It takes me back to a good place."

Sayuri's face relaxed as she sat down across from him. "Pardon me, Leonardo-san. I forget that your upbringing was not altogether different from my own."

"It was plenty different. Our Sensei gave us exposure to the Japanese culture, but we're fully American too. We received a fusion effect. The Sencha reminds me of my father, and makes me appreciate it even more. _Domo arigato_, Sayuri-san."

The woman smiled shyly. "You are welcome. It's a wonderful feeling to be among all of you; I only wish that it was under better circumstances."

Leo nodded soberly. "Truer words were never spoken."

"I have been considering this move for months," she said thoughtfully. "Ever since the holidays when we visited all of you at Lotus Salvus. I expected to feel a little awkward there, as if I was an outsider looking in. It was nothing like that. Your family felt like my own, for a few days at least."

"You _are_ a part of this family, Sayuri," Leo assured her. "I'm glad you felt like you belonged. We love having you and the kids with us."

She sighed shakily. "You don't realize the impact that all of you have on Shunshi; an influence that is sorely lacking in his life. I love him more than I ever imagined I could, but I can't fill this part for him. My heart breaks for him, and for Hisui. She was never a child. Hisui is deadly serious, and she puts Shunshi ahead of everything else. I have never heard her ask for anything for herself. She didn't even complain about being forced to leave Kouhei."

Sayuri looked down at her cup, staring at her tea rather than drinking it. "Their love for each other is admirable, but Hisui's burden for Shunshi feels too strong. I think she would do anything for him, including leaving Kouhei behind. I fear that she is forever going to push her own life back in favor of her brother."

"It's easy to understand why," Leonardo replied. "She's been the only one there to protect him for several years, and that instinct isn't going to just disappear. She wants to keep Shunshi safe, but she also wants him to be happy. Seeing him get things that he desperately wants is probably the only reward Hisui thinks she needs."

The woman set her cup down. "I know that I shouldn't allow her to pour all of her energy into her little brother at her expense, but I don't know how to stop her either. I cannot tell her to step away and live her life. I cannot _force_ her to fulfill her dream of going to school and being a veterinarian. How can I tell her to abandon Shunshi?"

He shook his head. "It's not the same thing, Sayuri. Moving on and living her life doesn't mean she's abandoning her brother, and maybe that's what she needs to hear. It's in _his_ best interest that she allows the power to shift too. They're brother and sister: progressing into following _her _dreams won't change that. By choosing to hold herself back, I believe she'll limit how far _he's_ willing to go."

Sayuri nodded. "This is not easy for me, Leonardo-san. I didn't give birth to them. I didn't have the opportunity to raise them. I have come in so late in their lives, I often feel like I don't have a right to say certain things."

"She might not _act_ like a child, Sayuri, but Hisui still needs guidance. I think you have more to teach her than you're comfortable with offering. It doesn't matter that you weren't there from the beginning. What matters is how you interact _now_. You've proven yourself to be trustworthy, and you _are_ the governing force in their lives.

"They haven't had stable leadership, and that's something you can give them. It's not about ruling with an iron fist…but you know there are things you need to say to Hisui. She seems to respect you a great deal, and if there's anyone who can 'get away' with it, it's you."

She exhaled. "I have to force myself to give her direction. It's not comfortable for me to do, but I agree that it is necessary."

"You _have_ instincts, Sayuri, and wisdom that you've developed over years of experience in life. You need to share those things with them. Just because you've never been a parent doesn't mean you have nothing of value to give them."

The woman gave him a faint smile. "I miss them. The thought of them in them being in another state with Shunshi so angry…"

Leonardo shook his head once more. "Sayuri, he's a little boy. You did what was best for him, and that's all you can do. His anger will fade, and maybe he'll gain some understanding in time. But you can't be afraid of upsetting him. You're the adult, so you get to make the tough choices, and you don't need to apologize for them. Shun is the child, and he has to see that getting mad won't win him any arguments."

"You are right, Leonardo-san, I know you are. It is my responsibility to do what must be done." Sayuri swirled around the steaming tea in her cup. "It is nice to talk to you in person this way."

"Likewise, and it's nice to see you with Greg." Leonardo smiled meaningfully.

The woman colored slightly. "I wish we had time to just enjoy it."

"You will," he told her. "This situation with the Akiudo won't last forever. You and Greg deserve some time to yourselves. You've never had any." Leonardo said nothing more, because he could tell the woman was getting embarrassed.

Sayuri finally took a sip of her tea. "Yes…it is needed."

Leonardo turned his head as he heard someone at the door, and grinned when he saw Greg.

"Hey. Are you two solving the world's problems?" the sandy-haired man asked.

"Not today. Actually, we were just talking about _you_," Leonardo said teasingly.

"Okay, I'm gonna go now…" Greg pretended to head for the door.

"Why don't you come sit down, Heff?" Leo invited. "I ought to call Calley. I told her I would hit her up this afternoon."

Sayuri's brow creased, and even Greg looked at him strangely.

"Hit her up," Leonardo emphasized. "You know, call her. All the cool kids are saying it."

"It's nice to know where I stand," Greg said impishly, settling down at the table with Sayuri.

Leonardo waved at the pair and exited into the living area. The room felt too crowded to make for a good place to talk on the phone, so he went down the hall to his bedroom instead. He lowered to the end of their bed and hit Calley's speed dial.

The young woman answered on the second ring, with an expectant tone that communicated she'd been waiting on him.

_I think I took too long to get back to her, _he thought ruefully. "Hi, Calley," he said apologetically. Leonardo heard a sharp intake of air, and for a moment he was worried that she was upset with him. "I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner."

The sniff that returned from her end made it sound more like she'd been crying. She had yet to utter more than a two-word greeting.

"Calley, what's wrong?"

"It's sort of complicated, Leo." Her voice was strained. "I'm not having a good day."

"I'm alone here, Calley, and I've got all the time in the world. Talk to me. What's going on?"

Calley hesitated for such a long time that he grew more nervous.

"Please tell me what's wrong," he pressed. "Is this about the gun-battle with the Akiudo?"

"No…yes. I'm not sure," she said honestly. "I've got several different emotions rolling through my mind, and I'm struggling to separate them. I'm worried about you and everyone else, but it's more than that, Leo. You remember when I told you about the impression of danger I had, right after you guys found Don? That was before we even knew the Akiudo was involved."

"Yes," he said softly. "I remember."

"The sense of dread was so strong, and I knew it meant nothing good. But I thought with you guys going in more prepared, it might be different. I don't know how else to say it, except that the feeling is getting worse."

"How is it getting worse?"

"It's just intuition, Leo. It isn't as if I'm having psychic visions of the future."

"Calley, _how_ is getting worse?" He felt himself getting frustrated at trying to drag it out of her. "Have you had a dream?"

"Dreams, plural," she corrected.

"About what? The city or the family?"

"Both," she replied. "I didn't want to say anything. I don't want you under extra pressure, whether it's real or only my imagination."

Leonardo held his breath before urging her to continue. "Clearly it's upset you, Calley. I need to know what they're about."

"It's…devastation, Leo, worse than what I can remember from the earthquake. The smoke from the fires was so heavy that it seemed to be blocking out the sun. At least…I _thought_ it was smoke. I don't know what else it could have been. There appeared to be this giant mass of darkness that covered every square mile of the sky.

"It reminded me of some of the scenes in the direct aftermath of the earthquake, but the catastrophic circle was bigger, _a lot_ bigger. You remember that there were several parts of the city that weren't impacted heavily by the earthquake—"

"Right, it was localized," Leonardo said mechanically.

"_This_ wasn't," she said. "Whatever happened, it was a large scale event."

Leo swallowed hard. "What about the family? What have you dreamed about us?"

"Leo, my fear is feeding this."

"Then you need to talk it out. Telling me won't put us in more danger than we're already in."

"I've seen death at least four different ways," she confessed. "All that tells me is that the Akiudo doesn't view you as prisoners this time. Takashi may want to take you alive initially, but he has no intention of your surviving." Calley's tone was flat, and Leonardo could tell that she was fighting with emotion. "They won't play fair, Leo, no matter what kind of deal they offer. You can't agree to any terms Takashi might put forward, because he has no intention of following through."

"I know, Calley," he tried to reassure her. "I know we can't trust him to do anything that he promises. The only reason we would agree to meeting him would be to set up some kind of assault of our own. Unfortunately, we don't have any information yet, and Takashi hasn't tried to contact us."

Leonardo sank further down on the mattress. "I don't know _what_ to do, Calley. We're stuck waiting on him to make a move, which hopefully won't involved killing several more innocents. Even one casualty is too many in my opinion. Maybe Don will find something on those flashdrives, but I'm not sure. My gut is telling me that the Travel Agency was nothing more than a cover for the Akiudo."

"I'm sorry for dumping this on you, Leo, but I can't repeat it to the girls on this side."

"No, _don't_," he said quickly. "You weren't wrong to tell me though, Calley. I'm your husband."

"I wish you were here."

"I wish I was too. I wish the Akiudo had already been vaporized, and I could be enjoying the mountains along with you. Don't hesitate to tell me anything, Calley. I may not be able to do anything to help, but I still need to hear it…and you shouldn't be forced to carry it alone."


	65. Second Impression

Over three days of being back underground, Brandon settled into a wake/sleep cycle that enabled him to limit contact with others unless _he_ wanted it. He didn't feel like he needed to avoid the family; he was simply more comfortable with being on his own. Every time he _did_ emerge during the day, his path would inevitably cross with the newest member of their club.

_I swear Jazz is everywhere. I think she must have a twin._

It wasn't fair to say that he was angry with her. The young woman had no way of knowing about his strange phobias, and he could admit that his behavior had been odd enough to freak out a stranger.

_There's something about her that rubs me the wrong way, though. I wish she didn't have to be here, but where else is Jazz supposed to go? She's involved now, whether I like it or not. I just need to suck it up and deal with her._

It was close to 2 in the morning, but he had no urge to sleep. He'd spent the last few minutes staring at the notebook that he was _supposed_ to be writing in. Brandon knew he should attempt journaling, but the thought of Jazz was distracting him.

Although he didn't feel like sleeping, hunger was beginning to manifest in his mind. _Sitting here sure isn't going to solve that, _he told himself. Brandon got to his feet slowly, shaking off lingering soreness. He'd worked out by himself much earlier in the day when no one else was awake. Despite knowing that he wasn't supposed to be pushing things on his own physically, he really didn't care.

Brandon peered out into the hallway from Donatello and Jenna's room. The raven-haired woman had insisted that he continue using the space, even though he felt he'd be just as happy somewhere else. The young woman refused to sleep there without Donny, in any case.

The ground floor was quiet. It wasn't unusual to find people up late, but tonight it appeared that everyone had settled down. It felt liberating to be outside the four walls of the bedroom, and Brandon gratefully kept going. He crossed through the semi-darkness of the living area and went into the kitchen.

The man hopefully approached the refrigerator. The smell of what he _knew_ was Michelangelo's brisket had been hard to resist earlier that evening, even knowing that Jazz would be among the diners. _Why am I letting her get to me this way? It doesn't make any sense._

Brandon pushed aside the intruding thought and opened the fridge door to find a storage container that had his name taped to the lid with the orange-masked turtle's familiar scrawl. He popped off the top and grinned at the sight of leftover beef. _God bless you, Mikey._

He rummaged through the fridge for a couple more ingredients, selecting two more Tupperware containers. _Mashed potatoes…gravy. Perfect. Doesn't get much better than that. It would taste good straight up, but l think I'll check the freezer too._

Karina was fond of buying artisan bread, and then freezing it to get a longer life out of the highly perishable product. There were still several slices left over from an old loaf of sourdough. _Now we're talking. _He left the ingredients for his sandwich sitting on the table while he started toasting some of the bread.

Brandon took his time assembling the different components for his sandwich, growing hungrier at the very thought of eating. He lingered at the table to enjoy his friend's efforts, inwardly reminding himself to thank the turtle the next day.

_I'm running out of excuses to hide_. _So I tried the surface and I didn't enjoy it. That doesn't mean I need to avoid everyone else. _Brandon paused from chewing long enough to allow another thought to dawn on him. Jazz_ is the one I'm avoiding. _He was experiencing a strong sense of revulsion concerning the woman, despite not _feeling_ angry. _I'm tired of thinking about her. I think it's time to try sleeping again. At least I won't go to bed hungry, _he added impishly, looking down at the crust that was the remnant of his sandwich.

While he was rinsing his plate off in the sink, Brandon heard something from the living area. He wiped off his hands on a towel and slipped through the door to check who else was up. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the distinctive hairstyle of the woman who had him so off kilter.

_You gotta be kidding me. She's _everywhere_. Just keep walking, keep going…_

Brandon attempted to get past the woman's back without being seen, but she inevitably heard him.

Jazz's grey eyes widened as she leaped to her feet. "Wait! Hold on. Can I talk to you? Two minutes; that's all I want."

Against his better judgment, Brandon stopped. Jazz stared at him, as if waiting for him to speak. "Yeah," he muttered. "Okay."

"I know you probably don't want to hear another apology, so I'm not gonna play that card. We had a rough first impression, and…I guess…I don't want you to feel weird about me being here."

Brandon wasn't sure what to say in response. She _did_ make him feel uncomfortable, but he didn't think it was fair to come down on her for hiding with them. "No, you're not weird, I mean, it's not weird that you're here," he stumbled. _Brother, where do I go from that great start? _

"I'm not really myself right now, Jazz, so…yeah, it's easier to be alone. It's not personal," he finished hastily, even though he felt like it was.

The way the young woman was looking at him made Brandon feel awkward, and the heat rushed to his cheeks. _Why is she just staring at me? This is about as ridiculous as it gets._

"I get it," she said suddenly.

_You do? Could you explain it to _me_ then?_

"You're embarrassed," Jazz said matter-of-factly.

Brandon shifted on his feet and glanced toward the hall.

"You're a powerful guy who could snap most people like a twig, and I met you at a very bad moment. Of _course_ you're embarrassed."

Brandon's feet remained planted on the floor. _Is that really all there is to it? _He felt like the heat was rising even further. _I guess it makes sense. It certainly goes hand in hand with the humiliation I'm feeling _now_._

"Look, Man, it's no big deal to me," Jazz continued. "If you're only worried about what I think, you can stop."

He wasn't sure how to respond to her, because he was still trying to determine if she was right.

"Do you wanna sit down?" she asked. "You don't have to. If you're tired, you can go to bed. I don't want to bother you."

Brandon hated struggling for words. She'd given him the chance to leave, and it was all he wanted to do. Yet there was something extremely vulnerable about the way she gave him permission to go, and it caused the first stirring of pity inside of him.

The man circled around the couch and sat down. "We got off on the wrong foot," he said. "I'm fine with you if you're all right with me."

Jazz nodded. "Yeah. I'm as cool as I can be, given the circumstances."

A sympathetic smile tugged at his mouth. "You got thrown into the middle of a giant mess, didn't you? Reminds me of how _I_ was introduced to the club."

The young woman rested her arm over the back of the couch and twisted her frame to face him. "What was your connection? How'd you end up on the inside?"

"My sisters," he answered. "They tried to introduce me gently, but it didn't work out that way. My fault. Actually, my meeting might beat yours for the panic factor."

"Oh, I doubt that," she retorted.

"Hear me out," he insisted. "I was fighting with my sisters. When I came to New York City, I found out from an outside source that they'd been hiding things from me. I overreacted, and I didn't give them a chance to explain properly. I hurt my younger sister's feelings in particular; the one who happens to be involved with Raphael. Can you fill in what happened next?"

Jazz's eyebrows rose. "I don't think so. The only thing I've learned in my short time with this group is that I don't know what to expect."

"Raph came to visit me, and it wasn't a friendly encounter. At least, it didn't start out that way."

"He just dropped by to hang out?" Jazz gave him a quizzical look.

"Raphael didn't allow me to see him. He came after dark, yanked me out of my bed, and gave me no choice except to listen to him."

"Like Greg gave _me_ no choice?"

"I ended up gagged and tied down to a chair."

Jazz covered her mouth to stifle a chuckle.

"Are you laughing at me?" Brandon tried to sound serious. "Looking back, it is a _little_ funny. He didn't hurt me. Raphael came to put me in my place over how I was treating my sisters, and he was right. He left that night without me ever realizing the true state of his…uniqueness. The _next_ time I saw him, I really think it could rival what you went through."

"Kidnapping and a firefight under a gang of terrorists? C'mon, Brandon, how are you gonna top that?"

"My second meeting involved the Akiudo too, or their aftermath, I should say. I agreed to meet my sister at a house in Chelsea, and she brought a couple of the girls as well as Raph and Mike with her to make the introductions.

"The gang showed up before I did. They abducted the girls and Michelangelo…and Yukiko left Raphael for dead. I walked in on him lying on the living room floor, basically dying before my eyes. That was my opening act with the guys."

Jazz exhaled softly. "Wow. That _does_ sound pretty heavy."

"It was…and I had no freaking clue what was going on."

"I can identify with that," she replied. "I don't know. The two nights are hard to compare. On the one hand, I was under direct threat of the crazy Asians, but your sister got jacked by them. I think we ought to call it a draw."

Brandon grinned. "I guess I can do that."

"So you're tight with these guys?"

He nodded. "As tight as it gets. It's a lot to take in at first, but you'll catch up. Everyone does. Are the others being nicer to you than I have?"

Jazz laughed. "Some are nicer than others. That girl, Jenna, I think she's afraid of me encroaching on her territory or something."

Brandon laughed too. "You mean with Donny? Watch out for her, Jazz. She won't pull any punches."

"I was only trying to _talk_ to him. I swear she didn't want to leave me alone in the room with him."

"Jen's cool," Brandon assured her. "But don't try getting into any fights with her. She's had the benefit of years of self defense training under ninjas."

"No _way_, Man. I learned properly in Prison. Keep your head down, and don't get into any fights."

Brandon's head jerked. "I'm sorry, did you say _Prison_?"

"Nobody told you that I'm an ex-con? I think it's one of my more endearing qualities."

"Why were you in Prison?" he had to ask.

"I fell in with the wrong crowd, and cracked the wrong company," Jazz said casually. "It was only a game to me, but the others were taking it more seriously than I realized. I took the fall for everything on a job that wasn't entirely my fault." She shrugged. "You wanna talk about humiliation, Brandon? Prison took every ounce of dignity that I possessed."

"You _really_ went to Prison?"

"You think I'm joking? Talk to your buddy Greg; he could show you my rap sheet. I went away for almost three years, and I'm not allowed to own, touch, or be within two millimeters of a computer ever again. That's paraphrasing, but you get the idea."

"Do you regret it?" he asked.

"Absolutely. I knew I was breaking the law when I cracked Daystar, and no one forced me to do it. I could be massively ticked at the guys who set me up for the fall, but at the end of the day, I got _myself_ busted. I can take responsibility for my actions."

Brandon was intrigued by her frankness. "Does Prison suck as much as it sounds?"

"Its worse," she answered. "Say goodbye to freedom, privacy, identity, you name it. Between strip searches, shake-downs, and the constant supervision…it doesn't get much more invasive. There's nowhere to go that's unsupervised. The guards can see everything. They monitor the showers, bathrooms, every nook and cranny, every second of the day.

"Some people suffer from paranoia of people always watching them, but in Prison, that's what it's like. And they aren't just women guards either. There are men too. You're all treated the same, no matter how different the sentences are, or the crimes that were committed.

"When you walk through the door and enter the fish tank, it's made very clear that your life is no longer your own. You're just a number, part of a larger system."

"Fish tank?" Brandon repeated.

"That's what it's called," she told him. "The initial check-in to prison is a long drawn out affair, and it's performed inside this glass room that anyone see inside of, from guards to other prisoners. I'm telling you – I've got you beat on humiliation."

Brandon took a sharp inward breath. _I'd have to debate that too, but I'm not going there. _He shook his head. _It really doesn't seem like she cares what anyone thinks. This girl isn't what I expected, especially taking her record into consideration._

Jazz held his gaze silently for a beat, before her eyes flicked to the TV. "I don't have a clue what to watch. Do you want control of the remote?"

"Sure." Brandon turned on the television. When the young woman focused on the screen, he snuck a longer look at her. _She might not be so bad._


	66. Out

Raphael ducked down low in the backseat, so that a random passerby wouldn't be able to see him in the early morning light. _What the shell could be taking him so long? This was s'posed to be a simple trip. If we don't get back before Leo wakes up, we're gonna have some serious explaining to do._

Raphael was beginning to go stir-crazy inside the Den. The girls had been gone for a week and the rest of them had remained in hiding. They weren't even running their normal rounds because of the Akiudo. Leonardo had requested for everyone to stay out of sight as often as possible, but Raphael couldn't bring himself to obey the letter of the law.

_I know those assault rifles have Leo all worried, but we're gonna have to come above ground eventually. I'd rather just face 'em down and be done with it. This sitting around on my shell makes me feel like I'm going out of my mind. Then again, what I'm doing right this second isn't any different, _he thought bitterly.

_I shoulda woke Mikey up. He could have entertained me in here, but he would never have kept his big mouth shut. The whole Den could have been awake before we got out the front door. _The red-masked turtle raised his head a short way to peek out the side passenger window. _Oh, c'mon, Man, where are you? Don't tell me I'm gonna have to come in there after you._

A sound from the driver's side started Raphael, and he had a sai drawn before the door was completely open.

"You're even crankier before breakfast, aren't you?" Marcus quipped.

"What took you so long?" Raphael hissed, sliding his weapon back into the holder. He wasn't about to admit that the man had succeeded in startling him.

"There was a _line_, Raph," he replied, dropping two white boxes on the passenger seat. "It may be early, but these are still the best doughnuts on the East side. Word gets around."

Raphael slouched down further on the backseat. "They'd better not have scarfed all the good kinds before you got there."

Marcus grinned back at him. "They know how to keep up with supply and demand. I'm sorry it took longer than I thought, but half the night-shift from the 15th Precinct is in there."

Raphael snickered. "Let's try to get home before everybody wakes up."

"Fat chance of _that_, Raph," Marcus said. "Leo knows when something's off. I'm surprised he hasn't called looking for you already."

"Fearless don't see _everything_, Marc."

"We'll see," he retorted. "I picked out three of his favorite crullers though, so that might help shorten the lecture."

"It won't hurt our chances." Raphael smirked. Despite the fact that he hadn't done anything but ride in Marc's Avalanche, it had felt good to breathe some free air. He'd been surprised that the soft-spoken doctor had agreed to go to the surface so easily.

_Shell, he was probably ready to get out too. Nobody likes being shut up underground indefinitely, especially when we're missing our family._ _Liv's probably awake already, eating her own breakfast or playing with her older cousin. It doesn't get much better for the two of them. I'm glad Olivia's got Reina, even if they're more trouble that way._

He pictured the baby turtle's smile, and it made him ache a little. _I'll see her again soon, _he assured himself. _Her Mama too. This isn't going to last long. I don't care if I have to blow up every last one of those stupid Akiudo. The faster they get outta our lives and our city, the sooner things can get back to normal. _Raphael sighed heavily.

"What's going on back there?" Marcus asked. "You got quiet on me."

"Nothing. I just wish this was already over."

"You miss your girls?" his friend returned sympathetically.

"As much as everyone else misses theirs'," Raphael answered. "Sorry you're stuck underground with the rest of us."

Marcus shook his head. "Spending time with you guys doesn't resemble being 'stuck', Raph. It's better for all of us to be together, in any case."

The turtle rested an arm behind his head. "What do you make of Bran lately?" he asked suddenly. "I can't figure out where his head is at."

"He probably doesn't know either," Marc said. "Emotions can be very confusing things, particularly in his case. We just have to accept him wherever he is on a given day."

"Accepting him ain't the problem, Marc; it's knowing what to _do_ with him. Sometimes I swear he sounds so much like himself, but then I get the feeling like he's hiding from me when I reach back."

"It takes time, Raph," Marcus said patiently. "That comminuted fracture in your leg didn't heal overnight. It was over six months before you could walk, and another couple of months before you were completely back up to speed in your activity level.

"Brandon's seriously injured too, in a different way. With the proper support and his continued determination, I'm confident he'll make it, Raph. In the meantime we have to continue to let nature take its course, and to try not to apply things personally. He's not angry with you, or withdrawing from being your friend."

Raphael took a deep breath. "I guess I do keep trying to make it out about me, and it's really not. I just hate seeing him like this."

Marcus took the opportunity of the red light to glance in his rearview mirror at Raphael. "He's probably going to experience several up and down cycles, Raph. I think the trick is to remain constant_ yourself_, and be there for Brandon whether he's embracing you with open arms, or pushing you away with a ten foot pole.

"Let's look on the bright side. Brandon's been spending time outside the bedroom during the day again, and he's even talking to Jazz. I think that's a good sign, don't you?"

Raphael chuckled at the thought of the interesting girl who'd recently taken up residence with them. "She's pretty funny, in her own way. Jazz ain't bad for being an ex-con."

"You realize she's done nothing worse than your genius brother has through the years," Marcus offered. "Don just doesn't get caught."

"Well, yeah, and it ain't for fun," Raphael added. "Donny's always got a good reason for hacking somebody." As he was finishing, the turtle felt a vibration from his belt. He withdrew his phone and groaned as his worst fear was realized. "We're busted, Marc."

"You better answer that thing before Leo sends out a search party."

"Hey, Leo, what's up?" Raphael answered casually.

"Where _are_ you?" he demanded coolly.

"Nowhere. Me and Marc just went out for a drive."

"At 6am? I know you better than that. What are you doing?"

"Let's just say that you're in for a treat when we get back."

"And _when_ will that be exactly?"

_If Leo sounds that testy already, he probably didn't sleep well last night, _Raphael realized. _Better not to give him a hard time. _"We're on our way back now, Fearless. We'll be home soon."

* * *

><p>Raphael pushed his swagger a little defiantly in anticipation of the coming lecture as he walked in the door. Leonardo was waiting in the living area with Greg.<p>

"Would it have killed you two to leave a note or something?" Greg complained.

Raphael shrugged, and saw Marc's sheepish smile out of the corner of his eye.

"Sorry," the dark-haired doctor replied. "You were supposed to be asleep. We come bearing gifts."

Leonardo gave Raphael a stern look. "Fearless, we're fine. Let it go."

"Just communicate, Raph. I never said you couldn't go anywhere. But just disappearing without a word…"

"Why are you only looking at your brother?" Marcus asked at once. "_Two_ of us left without telling anyone. Maybe it was my idea and I talked Raph into coming with me. Did you ever consider that possibility?"

Leonardo's baffled look made Raphael laugh out loud. "Do you wanna stop crying long enough to eat your crullers, Leo?"

The blue-masked turtle shook his head. "Where are the goods?"

Marcus smiled as he patted one of the boxes. "I'm going to get some coffee on. Anyone else want a cup?"

"I'll take one," Greg spoke up.

"Make that two, but don't make it a 'Donny' brew, okay? We can handle regular strength." Raphael plunked down on the couch beside his older brother. "How'd you sleep?"

"Okay," Leo said vaguely, in a way that suggested anything but.

The red-masked turtle studied his older brother, easily reading the burden weighing down his shoulders. _He never really gets a break, and I sure don't make it easier on him._

Raphael offered him an apologetic smile. "Sorry I didn't give you a heads up, Leo."

Leonardo looked a little surprised, but gave him a half grin. "I understand if you want to get out, Raph. Just give me a clue _before_ you fly the coop."

"Hey, if the lecture portion is over, can we turn on the TV?" Greg suggested. "The News should be on."

"Great," the red-masked turtle muttered. "Maybe we can hear about all the junk that happened overnight while we were hiding." Leonardo shot him a pained glance, but Raphael motioned for him to grab the remote. "Let's find out how much the city missed us," he said more lightly.

Greg folded his arms across his chest. "You take too much upon yourselves."

"Moving on…" Raphael suggested.

Leonardo flipped the TV on and turned to a local channel while they waited for Marcus to return with coffee to accompany their doughnuts. The station was on a commercial, and Leo took advantage of the lapse by fixing Raphael with a grim smile.

"You up for a workout with _me _this morning?"

Raphael nodded eagerly. "Shell yeah, Leo. I could use some excitement."

The blue-masked turtle chuckled. "I knew the rush from using the missiles was going to wear off on you."

Raphael laughed, but his eyes automatically flicked back to the TV as the programming returned to a live broadcast.

"…_At this hour_ _we're waiting for a statement to be delivered by an official from the NRC regarding the possibility of the extended suspension of operations at Indian Point Energy Center. Conflicting reports have been coming in overnight, and authorities are hoping to stem the tide of concern that's rising before any action has been taken…"_

Greg exhaled loudly. "They want to shut down the Indian Point? Where on earth are they going to tap that much supplemental power from?"

"Hold on, Heff, let's listen to what they're saying," Leonardo replied.

"…_Viewers may recall when a small leak was first discovered due to spent fuel rods back in 2005. Workers were said to have contained the rods from leaking into the Hudson, despite the crack in the pool building. However a year later, an independent tester reported finding radioactive nickel-63 and strontium within groundwater on the site._

"_According to the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation, there is no containment dome in place for the used fuel rods, despite the fact that the rods possess more nuclear material than the reactors. The rods are housed within 40 foot deep pools, submerged under 27 feet of water. The walls are four feet of concrete, and include a stainless steel liner._

"_Despite precautions that have been taken, the Nuclear Regulatory Commission reported that Indian Point began implementing a new method for safer storage of the used fuel rods called 'dry casking.' Yet even with this particular method in place, the spent fuel still has to cool for five years in the pool before it can be transferred out._

"_With the emerging evidence of contamination in both the groundwater and the Hudson which first broke overnight, the question of the renewal of Indian Point's license is coming under fire once more. Various politicians have called for the closing of the plant over the last few years, and those voices are taking full advantage of these recent findings. It's been cited that their equipment is too outdated to continue serving the population safely…"_

"Are they really gonna do this?" Raphael asked. "What are they going to do for power for everyone? They supply a lot of the city, don't they?"

"About 30%," Greg said bleakly. "The contamination must have been pretty bad."

"They must have some secondary solution," Leo said hopefully. "Surely there has to be a plan for emergencies."

Greg shook his head. "I don't know. As much as some people have campaigned for it to be closed, I'm not aware of any stable long-term solutions to meet the demand."

"Well…we've got the generator," Raphael said. "Even if there are blackouts, we should be okay."

"Yes," Greg replied. "Hopefully all of this really _is_ temporary, and they can correct the issues."

The red-masked turtle stifled a yawn. "The city went through enough with the earthquake last year. They don't need no more disasters."


	67. Explode

Leonardo watched Brandon keenly as he led the man through a relaxation technique. He was using a couple of the same visualization exercises that he'd created for Calley years ago, when the young woman was fighting her _own_ battles concerning the Akiudo. _Wow. Even thinking about the amount of damage that the gang has done to this family is astounding._

Leo was trying to focus his attention on the man sitting across from him, but he was suddenly finding it difficult. _With every day that passes, I feel like the noose could be tightening. Here we sit, waiting for the Akiudo to call Greg or make some other mistake that will help us to locate them. I can't imagine many things being more frustrating than this. I probably ought to be using these relaxation exercises on myself._

The blue-masked turtle rolled his eyes and took a deep cleansing breath, then let it out slowly. When he glanced back at Brandon, his friend was already gazing at him.

"I felt like I sort of lost you there," the man mentioned.

Leonardo nodded apologetically. "I'm sorry. My mind is being pulled several directions."

"I can't imagine what you have to think about," Brandon said impishly. "It's not like you feel responsible for a bunch of other lives or anything."

The turtle shrugged helplessly. "Some things can't be turned off, no matter how hard you try. Others will get better with time," he said meaningfully.

Brandon looked at the door for a few silent seconds. "I hope so," he said finally. "I want to believe that I'll be normal again. Sometimes…I can ignore it for a while. But it always finds a way to come back up."

"Bran, repressing it won't work in the long term. Even if you're able to bury it, the emotions are still going to affect you. You don't have to be _actively _facing down your past to be negatively impacted by memories."

The man didn't say anything, and Leonardo hesitated before continuing.

"This won't go away, Brandon, not that you _expect _it to disappear. As painful as it is, the only way to get through it _is_ to deal with it."

"It's not like I haven't tried, Leo," he murmured. "The only thing I want from you right now is help in learning to overcome this fear."

"PTSD isn't a normal kind of fear, Bran," the turtle said slowly. "This could get worse if you don't find some way to address it out loud."

"I thought that was what we were doing," the man said stiffly. "You're not telling me anything I haven't heard a hundred times."

Leonardo swallowed sharply. "You know we're only trying to help."

"Of course I know, but when I'm _ready_ to talk, you guys won't have to pry it out of me with a crow bar." Brandon got to his feet.

"C'mon, Brandon, we're not finished," Leonardo objected. "Don't go."

"_You_ might not be finished, but I am."

"Brandon, _stop_." The authority in his tone actually made his friend freeze in his step. "You can't run away every time someone tells you to open up."

"I don't have anything else to say. If you want to lecture me, you're gonna have to set up another appointment."

"I'm not _lecturing_ you, Brandon." Leonardo fought to maintain a calm demeanor, despite the irritation he felt. "You can't ignore this forever. You can't! Don't get mad at me for telling you the truth."

The man was backing up closer to the door.

"It's not going to get easier," Leo said. "You won't find any real relief until you face these demons."

"I face the demons _every_ _day_, Leonardo, whether I want to or not." Brandon stalked out of the room, leaving the turtle feeling defeated.

As much as Leo wanted to go after him, experience told him that it probably wouldn't do him any good. _He's got to snap out of this. Brandon has to be honest with somebody. I _know_ it's not easy for him, but he's got to let go!_

He took a half-hearted swing at the punching bag as frustration peaked. _I'm not inside his head – I don't know what he's dealing with. But we can't allow him to continue receding, or nothing is going to change._

Leonardo heard a door slam. By the weight behind the sound, he guessed that someone had just left through the front entrance. The bang was still resounding in his ears when he heard raised voices coming from nearby. The turtle swiftly crossed the dojo and ducked into the hallway.

"Brandon ain't there yet. He already told me he'll come to me when he is!" Raphael was telling someone else.

"It's not always that simple!" Leonardo was surprised to hear _Jazz_ counter his brother. "Sometimes you have to push a little further."

"We _have_ pushed him," Raphael retorted. "It ain't like we can tie Brandon down and make 'im talk!"

"Do you _really_ think that's what I was suggesting?" Jazz sounded annoyed.

"I don't know what you expect us to do, but I _know_ how to handle him when he gets like this. You gotta leave Brandon alone and let him cool off. He gets over things, and then he gets his head on straight."

"If you lay off every time he gets angry, the only message you're sending him is that he can escape if he explodes!" she returned.

"What do you know about it?" Raphael demanded. "You're around one week, and you think you know him? You think we aren't _trying_ to help him?"

"I never said you weren't trying to."

"But we obviously can't do anything ourselves, or you wouldn't be sitting here telling me what to do!"

"I'm not trying to tell you what to do, Turtle!"

"That's sure what it feels like, and you've got no call or right to open your mouth about Brandon to begin with!"

"Hey," Leonardo interjected, emerging into the living area. "Why don't we all just relax for a couple of minutes? Neutral corners, you two." He fixed his gaze on Raphael. "What happened with Brandon?"

"He was with you, Fearless. Why don't _you_ tell us what happened?"

The blue-masked turtle's brow furrowed. "It started out fine. I was just leading him through some breathing and visualization exercises. Then I tried to actually talk to him, and it went downhill fast. Brandon is stuck in this mindset of locking things up tightly. I get the feeling that he thinks the fear is the root of all the problems he's experiencing. He doesn't understand that facing the memories is exactly what he needs to do in order to get somewhere."

"Leo, we can't force Brandon to talk about this stuff," Raphael said gruffly. "How many times have _you_ said it yourself? He's got to deal with it at his own pace."

Jazz shook her head. "That doesn't always work. You can't give in to him just because he throws a tantrum, not if you really care about him!"

"Bran is like a brother to us, Jazz. We don't need your advice on how to treat him!" Raphael said heatedly. "Mind your own business, and let _us_ worry about Brandon."

Jazz's eyes narrowed as she climbed to her feet. "Do everything your way then, and don't come crying around me if you lose him."

Leonardo had to bite his lip to prevent himself from chuckling over the sight of his younger brother's shock that the woman was _still_ talking.

"It ain't about doing things my way," Raphael's tone flattened. "Why the shell do you think you know so much more than us? We've been around, seen a lot of evil, and stuck together through everything. Brandon is gonna come out on the other side of this thing, and he won't need any advice from you to do it. _None_ of us need to hear your mouth."

The young woman glared at him, unflinching, then rolled her eyes. "You're right. I don't know anything. I've never seen a day of trouble in my perfect life, and everything has always been coming up roses."

"You bring trouble on yourself," he shot back. "You want me to feel sorry for you 'cause you got caught breaking the law?"

"I never asked for sympathy from anyone, and I sure don't want it from you!" Her voice rose higher. "All I was trying to say is that you can't let Brandon's emotions dictate how far you're willing to push him."

"Why do his emotions have _anything_ to do with you?"

"I don't know!" she answered with crossed arms. "Because some crazy punks decided to drop into the middle of my life, and now I'm caught up in some insane scenario that I never asked for! This isn't me telling you what to do, Raphael; I'm trying to _warn_ you. You may think that you're too smart to listen to anything an ex-con has to say, but experience has taught me that these things won't always resolve _themselves_."

"You hear that, Leo?" Raphael said mockingly. "Instead of chasing down the criminals, we ought to be taking advice from them."

"To hell with you!" Jazz spat angrily. "To hell with all of this! I'm out."

Leonardo smoothly cut across her path, and he saw an immediate flash of fear in her eyes. What boldness had been there seconds before was replaced with the cringing girl they'd met days ago.

"I knew it," her voice trembled. "You're never gonna let me leave, are you? I've seen too much."

Leo shook his head as he adjusted his posture, trying to appear less threatening. "That's not true, Jazz. You're not our prisoner. We invited you here to make sure that you'd be safe. We have no intention of holding you against your will. I just don't want you to run away without thinking this through."

Leonardo shot a look at Raphael, then focused on Jazz. "Tempers run high around here sometimes, but that doesn't mean you need to leave. If you really want to go, I'll talk to Greg when the others get back, and find out if there's a way to keep you safe on the surface. _Is_ there anyone else you can turn to up there?"

"I don't need anyone else," she said shortly.

"Please don't give up on us, Jazz," Leonardo requested, and shot his brother a glare.

Raphael unfolded his arms, but his features lost none of their hardness. "Fine, Leo," he muttered, turning in Jazz's direction. "Talking about Bran like that gets me defensive, okay?"

"Whatever," she replied. "Do you think you two trust me to go to the Lounge? I have to go consider my options."

The blue-masked turtle nodded and stepped out of the way so she could retreat down the hall to the room she'd been using since she'd arrived. The instant the door closed behind her, Leonardo spun to face his brother.

"What the _shell_ is your problem, Raph? Where do you get off talking to her like that?"

His brother bristled defiantly. "It's not her business, Leo. She just _met_ Brandon. How is she gonna tell me how to handle him?"

"Did you listen to anything she was saying? Jazz may have had a good reason for speaking up in her mind. I think you owe her a _real_ apology."

"I'll go consider my options," the red-masked turtle said sarcastically, and headed for the stairs.

Leonardo shook off the excess anger that seemed to be gathering inside his muscles. _That was ridiculous. Why did I just allow the exchange go that far?_

Raphael had no sooner gone upstairs than Michelangelo peered out of the Lab.

"What just happened, Leo?"

"No doubt you heard most of it," he replied morosely. "But I don't blame you for staying out of the way."

"Did Brandon leave?"

"He'll be back, or…maybe you could go after him. Brandon wasn't happy with me when he left, but he probably didn't go far."

The orange-masked turtle sighed softly. "Just another day on the roller coaster around here, huh? I'll go see if I can find him. Send out a search party if I'm not back in a couple of hours," he added wryly.

Leo settled into a chair as his youngest brother left. _Would it be too much to ask for a day off at some point?_


	68. Better

Michelangelo trotted through the dim tunnel easily without the use of a light. He was walking a path that was so familiar, he probably could have done it with his eyes closed. The turtle kept a steady pace as he headed in the direction he'd assumed that Brandon would have gone.

The man could have found his way back, but Mike was concerned about the possible triggers Brandon could face in the sewer. He didn't want to imagine his friend getting terrified and stranded in the labyrinth of tunnels that he normally knew fairly well.

_It's easy to get confused when you're panicking, and I don't want to take the chance on Bran. I'd rather track him down myself._

He'd been straining to hear the sounds around him, detecting nothing more than the faint overhead traffic and the usual disturbances that comprised their underground world. As Mike continued pounding the pavement, his thoughts were drawn back to Donatello.

_I hope Donny got back to sleep after all that ruckus. He didn't look that great._

Concern pulsed in the back of Michelangelo's mind. It was usually simple to tell when his purple-masked brother was attempting to veil his pain, but today felt different. Donny appeared weaker than Mike had noticed in weeks, and it had led to him confiscating Donatello's laptop. _That's what Doc would have done. He'll be back soon, and I'm sure he'll check with Donny first thing. Nobody _could _ever get anything past that man, _Mike thought wryly, before focusing on the real task at hand.

_Brandon might not have come this way. It might be time to backtrack and search another direction, but I think I'll go a little further just to make sure._

Mike cleared his throat and called his friend's name, hoping for an answer. He'd started _out _the trek by yelling for Brandon, and had received no reply except for the echo of his own voice. As he hesitated this time, the turtle picked up the sound of movement close by. Something _was_ out there.

He followed the source of the sound for a few more feet, until he found someone hunched over on the ground against the wall. "Bran?"

The man didn't speak, but at least he raised his head.

"That doesn't look too cozy down there," Mike commented. "Why don't you get up and c'mon home with me?"

Brandon shook his head. It looked like he wanted to say something, but when the man opened his mouth he was cut off by a hoarse gagging cough.

Mike grasped him firmly by the shoulder. "Don't fight me, dude; get up. You don't wanna get sick right here." He supported the man under the arms as he guided him toward the water.

Brandon suddenly jerked away from Mike, falling to his knees on the side with a more prolonged fit of coughing. Mike silently stayed closeby as the man got sick over the edge of the concrete. It felt like the episode wasn't going to end anytime soon, and the turtle forced himself to be patient while he waited.

"You're okay, Brandon," he encouraged him finally. "Everything's gonna be all right."

His friend never said a word, but surprised the turtle by intentionally slumping in his direction. Mike wrapped an arm around him again, swallowing inwardly as he considered calling one of the doctors for him.

"I'm so tired of this," Brandon mumbled aloud at last.

"I don't blame you," Mike said. "I would be too. Are you feeling anything weird? Should I call for help?"

Brandon shook his head. "My stomach is in knots, but there's nothing new about that."

"Do you think you can handle getting back to the Den? This isn't a comfortable place for you. You need to lie down and rest."

"Rest doesn't help any more than running. I don't _want_ to go, you guys don't understand," he stumbled.

"You don't want to go where, Brandon?"

"Everyone pushes, wants me to talk. If it would make me feel normal, I'd do it, Mikey. If I could purge every memory in an instant, I wouldn't _care_ how much it hurt. But the couple of times I went there, when I tried to say it, I just…"

"You what, Brandon?"

"I chickened out. I wish I could explain what it's like to live with the irrational fear. When I'm stuck in the middle of a flashback or a memory, I get paralyzed. Sometimes I don't even have the option of fight or flight. Usually I can't do anything at all. That's not something I want to go around triggering, Mike, and talking about it makes it worse."

"I think it's gonna be hard to talk about at first, Bran. The only way it's going to get easier is if you _keep_ doing it. It might not make sense to think about the worst stuff on purpose, but you're _not_ about to give up. That's not you.

"In spite of everything they put you through, you never told those idiots anything. Can't you feel good about that, Brandon? Very few people have endured the kind of pressure you did without talking. You were better than them."

"I didn't have a choice," he faltered softly. "Mike, I reacted out of instinct. Protecting the four of you, it's deeply engrained inside all of us. There was no question over whether I'd cave and tell those bastards anything. You _can_ make up your mind to keep your mouth shut, no matter what someone does to you."

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit," Mike said.

"Credit for what?" he scoffed. "I didn't outlast them, Mike. I never came close. The only reason I'm still here, is because they wouldn't let me die."

Michelangelo shifted on the cold cement, searching for words. "Then thank the morons, and move on to the next hurdle, Bran. You're glad you didn't die back there, aren't you?"

Brandon wouldn't look at him. "I think a large part of me did, Mike. Any hope of being normal feels so faint." The man's breathing quickened. "I want to pretend that it didn't happen and start with a clean slate."

"But it doesn't work like that; you can't just decide to be this new person, Bran. You're still gonna be you, with the same memories. You don't have to deal with everything at once, dude, but you gotta start facing _some_ of it. A little bit at a time, and you're gonna make it."

Brandon sighed. "I don't like someone putting me on their time frame, Mike. I can't get over all of this just because you guys want me to."

"Nobody expects you to 'just get over it,'" Mike countered. "They're fighting for you, Bran. The harder you try to hide, the more we're going to pursue you. Change places with us for a minute. If it was one of us in this situation, you'd be doing the same thing that we are."

Brandon shook his head. "I guess, probably…"

"Don't look at it like we're trying to force you to do something you're not ready for. At the same time, we're not going to give up on you, no matter how hard you fight us."

"Okay," the man said faintly.

"Okay?" Mike repeated. "Okay what?"

"I don't want to fight you, or anyone else."

"Could you try believe that things can get better, Bran? No matter how bad you feel right now, you need to remind yourself of that. All of this crap, all of the pain, it won't be this bad forever. It won't. There's a healthy way to deal with this, and keeping it inside isn't it."

Brandon hadn't so much as stirred from the position in which he was propped against Mike's side, but when his phone rang, the turtle had to shift apologetically to answer it.

"Hey, Mike. Did you find Brandon?" his oldest brother greeted him.

"Yeah, he's here with me, Leo. I think we'll head back soon."

"Good. Did you happen to notice anything weird with Don earlier?"

"He was acting tired, and I think his head was bothering him. Why, Leo?"

"I think he's got a temperature," the blue-masked turtle replied.

Mike sat up further. "Did you call Doc?"

"Yes; they're only a few minutes away as it is. Is Brandon okay?"

"Sort of. We can talk more when we get back. Keep an eye on Donny for me."

"I am, Mike."

When Michelangelo hung up the phone, Brandon was staring at him.

"Why did Leo have to call Doc?"

"It's for Donny," Mike told him. "He could be coming down with something."

The man jerked to his feet as if he'd been branded. "Yet it's always about me, isn't it?" he said under his breath. "Is it serious? Is Donny going to be okay?"

"Bran, relax. It didn't sound like an emergency, and the docs are almost here in any case. Things are under control, but we probably _should_ get back."

Brandon nodded. "Let's get moving."

Mike watched the man out of the corner of his eye while they walked back toward the Den.

Brandon didn't look at him, but spoke up after a couple of quiet minutes. "I'm sorry for making everything about me, Mike. It's too easy to get consumed by everything I'm going through, and forget about what Don has to deal with."

Michelangelo's arm went around his back once more. "No one really blames you for that, Brandon. Without some kind of outlet, that's just how it's going to be."

The man didn't say anything else for the rest of the journey back to the Den, but he met Leonardo's gaze steadily when the turtle greeted them at the door. "I'm sorry, Leo. I appreciate you trying to help me."

Leonardo gave him a probing look. "I'd be happy to work with you on some of the techniques again, Brandon, if you feel like you want to."

The man nodded. "I would. I think the breathing could help me get over the hump on some of the worst stuff."

"That's the idea. Are you all right?" Leonardo asked seriously.

"Yeah," he said somberly. "What's up with Don?"

"I went to sit with him after Mike left. He asked for his laptop first, and I didn't give it to him. He looked too tired to be doing any more research."

"I thought the same thing," Mike said. "Has he been working too hard, Leo? We can't treat him like he's all better."

His older brother shook his head. "We'll have to monitor his activities more closely." Leonardo turned to Brandon once more. "Why don't you sit down, Brandon?"

"I'm going to hit the bathroom first, and I'll be back."

Mike headed for the Lab as the man left the room, and realized that Leonardo was following him.

"What did you say to him?" Leo asked.

"Not much, Leo. It felt like some of the same stuff we've told him before. We gotta keep wearing him down, I guess."

Leonardo heaved a breath. "Like waves beating against the rocks."

"What's Raph doing?"

"He's probably still upstairs. I know he's feeling extremely frustrated, but he was way too hard on Jazz when she dared to disagree with him."

"We _all _know it's not safe to do that," Mike returned. "He'd want to know if something's wrong with Donny though."

"You're right. I'll go get him."

Michelangelo slipped through the door of the Lab, and found his purple-masked brother in the process of trying to sit up. "Will you take it easy, Donny?" he chided. "If you don't feel good, why are you trying to do anything?"

"Because they're _out_ there, Mike, and God knows what they're planning to do next."

"When you're tired, you're tired, Bro. You have to quit at some point."

Donatello looked annoyed, but the expression faded rapidly into discouragement. "There's nothing there, Mike," he said after a moment. "I've been over those flashdrives from the Agency with a fine-tooth comb. The business was nothing but a convenient cover for the Akiudo."

"Good. That means you can give the computer a rest for today."

"No, it means we have _nothing_!" he snapped. "Those men are preparing to unleash another assault on the city, and my mind is reeling with possibilities. They've used explosives, chemicals, firearms…we don't even know what to expect from them! Lying here waiting for them to do something is one of the worst feelings I've ever had."

Michelangelo grasped Donny's wrist, imagining that he was transferring calm to his older brother. "Yeah, it sucks, Bro. But what good is playing with your computer all day going to do?"

"I've got to be prepared for when Takashi calls Greg back. You know he's planning to," Don explained. "If I can get set up with the satellite fast enough, it's possible I might be able to hack _Takashi's_ phone through Greg's signal. The problem is procuring enough time to realign the satellite for my own use."

"Is this something you've done before?"

Donatello nodded. "I took a security detail for a television satellite company a couple of years ago, specifically so I could get easier access to one. I can do it; it just takes time. Longer than a phone call would probably afford me. Takashi's bound to keep it short. I have to find a faster way to hack the satellite so that I have time to tag the other phone."

"Tag?" Mike repeated.

"That's going to have to wait," Luke announced from the doorway. "As of right now, you're still my patient, and you'll do as _I_ say."

Donny rolled his eyes. "Terrific. Back to being a hostage."

"If that's what you want to call it, fine," the man said firmly. "Your shell belongs to _me_."


	69. Turtle Luck

Jazz was bored. She was tired of being shut up in the Lounge, but she wasn't about to go hang out with the others either. _They'll suck me back in, no doubt, and I'm done with it. This may be normal as far as everyone _else_ is concerned, but I don't want any part of it. I'm finished._

She'd already refused to respond to three knocks that had come over the course of four hours, determined not to be swayed off her chosen path. Jazz was only waiting for the noise to settle down to the point at which she wouldn't have to wade through a crowd to get out the door.

_And there's the small matter of what I'm going to do when I leave. My job is toast, and I'm not going to make the rent. Not that I want to be alone there right now anyway. It looks like I'm starting over from scratch _again_. I could go back to the shelter for tonight – the church is always taking people in. I bet I can probably buy a couple of days there while I figure out what to do next. But I don't want to wait for nightfall in that case. The earlier I arrive, the more likely I'll get in._

Her belongings were sparse; little more than a few changes of clothes Greg had taken her to retrieve after she'd agreed to take the weird trip to the underworld. Jazz hoisted her oversized bag onto her shoulder, slipping one arm through a strap. She knew she wasn't going to escape the Den without being seen; she only hoped that Leonardo hadn't been lying about allowing her to leave.

With a deep breath she walked out of the Lounge and down the hall. The young woman made it about halfway to the door before being spotted, and she stiffened as someone called after her.

"Jazz? Where are you going?" Greg was on his feet in a flash.

Jazz eyed the man darkly, suddenly wishing that she possessed heat vision. _He's the one who got me into the mess – _he_ ought to be getting me out. _"I'm running while I still can," she replied. "I'm sick of playing house."

"You want to leave?" Brandon rose too. "But, Jazz, you're safe here. The guys can take care of you—"

"This isn't my scene," she interrupted. "I'm not going to pretend to be something that I'm not."

"Where will you go?" Greg asked.

"It's none of your concern. I can take care of myself, like I have for years. Keep my head down, stay out of trouble, and I'll make it. Being connected with _this _bunch is what's gonna get me killed. So if you're going to take me prisoner, now's the time to do it. Otherwise, get out of my way."

"You shouldn't try to find your own way out," Brandon said. "It's easy to get lost, not to mention, those manhole covers are _heavy_. There's another exit that the girls usually take, and we'll get you there." The man looked at Greg. "You can handle a Slider, can't you, Greg?"

"Yeah," the sandy-haired man replied. "If you want to leave, Jazz, at least let us take you back to the surface."

Jazz couldn't help feeling like the men had a plan in mind, but she had no desire to fumble around in the dark either. "Fine, whatever," she agreed shortly. "But I'm leaving now, so if you're taking me, you have to get moving."

* * *

><p>Despite Jazz's suspicion of the ease with which Greg and Brandon had agreed to take her to the surface, the trip was uneventful. Jazz was relieved to see the sunlight and feel the breeze at the end of the tunnel. The men had made some small attempts to reason with her during the journey, but the young woman had been swift to shut them down.<p>

"I really wouldn't mind dropping you off somewhere," Greg offered once more.

"No. The bus stop is right across the street. I _live_ off of public transportation."

"You've got my number," the sandy-haired man persisted. "If you change your mind and decide to let us help you, I'll come around in a heartbeat."

"I'll be fine," she said distractedly, as she spied the bus a couple of blocks away. "I have to go, so…later."

Jazz willed herself not to look back as she crossed the street. _I'm not going to let them see me as some little lost puppy. I've got to prove that I can stand on my own two feet. _She made it to other sidewalk well before the bus arrived. Now that she was facing the road, she could see that Greg and Brandon had already disappeared. _That didn't take long._

When the vehicle arrived she chose a seat near the back of the half-full bus, and planned out the rest of her route to St. Mark's Cathedral. As she made notations on a piece of scrap paper, a strange heaviness seemed to descend.

_I could have gotten used to that group. But what for? To be some mascot, a helpless female who needs sympathy and protection? Ever since I hooked up with them, I haven't been able to take care of myself. That was the _one _thing I used to be able to feel good about: my ability to get things done._

_They felt responsible for me, so they _had_ to take me in. I don't need to be the center of anyone's pity party though. It's better this way, better for me to be alone. That's how I function best._

The pep-talk did nothing for the burden crushing her. _It's a nice idea to think I could hang out with a bunch of people who are weirder than me, who wouldn't mind having me around in _theory_. But emotions are fickle things. They feel sorry for me, but they resent my past too. It just wasn't meant to be. Not for me._

It took forty minutes and three different buses for Jazz to find her way to the Catholic Church that had been her home away from homes when she'd first been released from Prison, with nowhere to go. The building hadn't changed very much from the outside, but she didn't find anyone she recognized _inside_.

A prim woman with a grey bun who called herself "Sister Ginny" welcomed her to the Center. Jazz felt a sense of déjà vu as she followed the stranger through the crowded halls. _It's getting colder outside at night. People flock in when the temperatures go down. I'm lucky they have any room left._

_"_You've stayed here before, Dear?" the woman addressed her cordially, but there was something disconnected in her tone.

"Yeah, a couple of years ago," Jazz replied vaguely.

"The rules haven't changed," Ginny told her. "The two wings are separated with the women down this hall, and the men to the left end. We have a zero tolerance policy on drugs, alcohol, and violence."

"I'm cool," she assured her. "You won't get any issues from me."

"Let's get you settled into one of the dorms, and then we can see about dinner."

"I'd like to hold onto my things," Jazz said.

"Whatever you prefer, Jasmine."

The young woman winced at the use of her full name, but she _was_ the one who'd given it to Ginny. Jazz followed her to the familiar dining area, which already appeared to be filled to capacity.

"When you've had something to eat, I'll take you back to find a bed," Ginny said.

"Thanks." Jazz peered around the room slowly, gripping the straps of her bag tighter as she looked for a safe opening somewhere in the masses. She wasn't actually hungry; the ache in the pit of her stomach was too strong to consider eating.

_Why do I feel like my dog just died? I barely know them. Sure, some of it was fun while it lasted, but this is pointless. I'd never fit in with them in the long—_The thought broke off as she caught an Asian boy making eyes at her. Her heart skipped a beat and she took a deep breath. _Relax. He's young, and he's got nothing to do with that whacked out gang._

Nevertheless, she didn't like the way he looked at her, or how his gaze continued to track her as she made a slow circle around the edge of the room. In that instant, Jazz wanted nothing more than to get out of there. She exited the room slowly.

She was moving against the flow of people, and it produced a bad taste in her mouth. The weight of her backpack suddenly felt like it could tip her over. Regret was catching up with her rapidly, and Jazz couldn't believe she'd been so quick to return to the shelter. _It wasn't so bad when I first got out of Prison – anything was better than being locked up. I had no idea it would be so hard to come _back_._

Jazz slipped out of the closest side door, and skirted around the building to the back. She dropped onto the cement steps dejectedly, staring bleakly into thin air. _I've got to stick it out for a little while. _She rested her chin in her hand wearily as the cold temperature from the surface of the stairs seeped through her clothes. _Am I strong enough to start over again? Where am I going to find a job _now_?_

Footsteps invaded her thoughts, and she glanced to her right to see someone lingering a couple of feet away. The Asian boy stood smiling, as if she'd invited him to come outside with her.

"What do you want?" Jazz clutched the straps of her bag protectively.

"I saw you lookin' at me," he replied.

"You're imagining things," she told him.

"It's nicer out here away from the noise and mess isn't it?" he said casually.

Jazz scooted away from him as he stepped closer. "I like the quiet," she said pointedly. "I like being _alone_. Thanks for dropping by though."

"I think you could be a little friendlier." He smirked at her as he ignored her evasive maneuver and leaned down to her level.

"I've got a set of pipes that can draw half the neighborhood," she said warningly.

The boy casually displayed a blade that had to be at least seven inches long. "You can't scream without vocal chords." His teasing tone belied the seriousness of his words.

Jazz swallowed as she tried to stay calm. "Punk, you need to back up."

"I like a girl who's a little freaky."

She swore at him. "The only _freak_ here is you! Back off!"

He chuckled. "What's the point in fighting the attraction?"

"Does attraction make you feel like throwing up?" she demanded. "Get away from me!"

"Or what?" he asked coyly.

Jazz heard the sound of pebbles scattering across the concrete, two seconds before a strong hand landed on the boy's shoulder. The sight of Greg standing behind the kid was enough to startle _her_ out of her wits.

"Let's not make a scene here," the man suggested. "Just back off real nicely, and no one has to get hurt. Doesn't that sound reasonable?"

The stranger's face darkened for the first time, but he didn't look prepared for the _two _towering figures that were standing behind him. "We were just talking," he said defensively.

"You're _done_ talking," Brandon insisted. "Jazz, are you coming?"

The young woman clenched her jaw as she got to her feet. She was partially relieved to see them, though she was unwilling to admit it out loud. Jazz didn't say a word as the two men guided her across the parking lot toward the blue Avalanche.

When they reached the vehicle, she stood back defiantly. "What are you doing here? Are you _stalking_ me now?"

"Jazz, I'm the reason you're in this situation, and I wanted to make sure you'd be all right," Greg explained. "This doesn't look okay to me."

"It's a shelter!" she exclaimed. "People come through here every day!"

"People with no other resources," Brandon inserted. "Could we just talk to you for a couple of minutes?"

Jazz was so irritated that she could barely form a reply. "And then you'll let me be?"

Greg motioned to the car. "We won't hold you up," he promised.

Against her better judgment, she climbed into the passenger side. She caught the scent of Brandon's aftershave as he settled onto the seat beside her, and had to take a deep breath to remind herself that she was extremely irritated with _both_ of them. Greg got behind the wheel, but still neither man spoke right away, Jazz held up her hands questioningly.

"What's the deal here, guys? How can I hear you out when you're not talking?"

"Raph told us about getting into it with you," Brandon said carefully. "Jazz, he can be a little…complicated. He's really passionate, so it's easy for him to get worked up. When he gets mad, it's usually a full-fledged event. He says things that he doesn't mean. He and I are a lot alike in that sense. But Raph is also one of the most loyal, protective guys you'll ever meet. We all have our individual strengths and weaknesses…some of them are just more visible than others."

"It doesn't matter what he said," she replied sullenly.

"Obviously it does. Why else would you be running?"

"Really? _You_ wanna talk about running?" she challenged.

Brandon inhaled deeply. "Is this about me and my instability?"

"No, Brandon, it's about _me_, okay? Even with your issues, you still belong with them. This is your family. I'm an outsider—"

"We _all_ start out that way, Jazz."

"No, I'm different, and that's been made abundantly clear. Let's take attendance of the rest of your people, huh? You got a police officer, FBI Agents, doctors…what do these people have in common?"

"We all have our similarities and differences, Jazz," Greg spoke up.

"No. You've all got something to offer," she said. "Let's be honest here. I'm nothing but an ex-con who got mixed up in something that doesn't concern me. I can only accept so much pity, guys. I was scared, and I let you help me. You didn't think I was here to _stay_, did you?"

Greg shook his head. "I don't know what we thought, but this isn't about pity, Jazz. It seemed like you were starting to settle in with us, and what Raphael said in a heated moment doesn't change anything."

"You think I haven't heard worse?" She huffed. "Once you've been rejected enough times, you start to get used to it."

Brandon peered at her closely, and the uncomfortable feeling of being naked and bare twinged in the back of her mind. Jazz drew both arms across her chest self-consciously.

"You care more about what people think than you say you do," he said.

"And _you_ need to quit running away from your friends!" she retorted defensively.

Brandon tensed, but then nodded. "You're right. I don't want to deal with my issues, but I can't move forward until I do. What is it _you're_ really running from? Is this about someone else's opinion of you?"

She didn't answer.

"Jazz, no one is going to stand in the way of you leaving, but I wish you'd think about this a little more," Greg said.

"There's nothing to think about," she said. "Ever since I met these guys, I've been nothing but the helpless female who's afraid of her own shadow. That isn't me. I don't need…" Jazz faltered, refusing to fill in the statement with _anyone_. "I don't need this," she corrected.

"Has anyone told you about turtle luck?" Brandon asked.

"Turtle _what_?"

"Turtle luck," he said. "It's the term we use to refer to the weird twists of destiny that surround the guys. It can be very good, or it can be incredibly bad. Like me showing up at Chelsea, at the exact moment that Yukiko was going to finish Raphael off. Or the way Leo and Raph accidentally discovered the gang to begin with, on a random night of patrolling. See what I mean? Turtle luck."

"What's your point, Brandon?"

"How many days out of a month do you spend at the Travel Agency?"

"We're there once a month for the big cleaning. We spend a couple of good hours in their storefront, before we move on to the rest of the building."

"What are the chances that the guys would show up on the one night that you're there?"

She shrugged. "About one in thirty. That's not very impressive."

"Maybe not, but what are the chances that the Akiudo would choose _that_ Travel Agency as their cover, thereby sending the turtles right to your doorstep?" Greg added.

"That would take forever to figure out. There are too many possibilities."

"_That's_ turtle luck, Jazz!" Brandon proclaimed. "We like to say that this type of meeting isn't a chance encounter. It may feel like a giant mess, but there's a design in there somewhere."

"That doesn't make any sense."

Brandon gave her a smile that both frustrated and enthralled her. "Look, I'm not saying I subscribe to all of the facets of turtle luck. But in my experience, it's better not to fight it. You met them. You didn't plan it, they didn't plan it, but now you're here, and your world has been rocked. You can walk away, but it won't change what happened, and I guarantee you won't forget them."


	70. Fixing

Raphael felt Leonardo glaring at him, but for once, he chose not to say anything about it.

"Why didn't you talk to Jazz earlier?" his brother demanded.

"I _tried_ once, Leo. She wouldn't come to the dang door. I mean, what do you want me to do? Am I supposed to get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness?"

"If that's what it takes!" Leonardo was truly annoyed. "Are you forgetting why she's here, Raph? Her life could be in danger. She just got screwed out of her job. It's not like she can tell anyone else what happened! Do you realize how hard it's going to be for Jazz to find more work?"

"Well, yeah, the felonies on her record don't help too much," Raphael muttered.

"Enough!" Leonardo commanded sternly. "We all know she went to Prison. That has _nothing_ to do with this situation! If Greg and Brandon can talk her into staying, you're going to fix this. And if you ever throw her record in her face again, you're going to answer to _me_."

"All right, _shell_, Fearless. What's your deal with this chick? You're acting like you're her daddy or something."

"I don't like your attitude, Raph. You came down on her too hard. It's one thing for you to go off on one of us or our friends, but to lose it on someone who barely knows you…why are you shocked that she was offended?"

"I'm not shocked, Leo. I just don't get why you're so uptight over defending her. You _know_ I always try to make things right."

The blue-masked turtle shook his head. "We've all done things that we wish we hadn't, Raph. What if each of us were judged by our past? I'm not going to give you any room for that kind of error."

Raphael swallowed. "Okay. I get it, Leo. Big mistake on my part. If she gives me the chance, I'll do my best to make it up to her."

The lines in his brother's forehead relaxed slightly. "Part of me thinks she wanted to be talked out of leaving, or she wouldn't have tried it in full view of anyone else."

Raphael nodded, as his attention was drawn to the door of the Lab which was opening. When Luke appeared, the red-masked turtle sat up straighter. "Hey, Doc. How's Donny doing?"

"Spiking a fever," the man replied. "His immune system took a hit through the whole ordeal, so it could be related to any number of things. I'm hoping it's a simple infection that we can kill off quickly. I started him on hydralin to help control his temperature, and Marc, Caleb, and I will keep an eye on him. We'll set up a rotation. Donny definitely needs rest above anything else for the moment."

"Which is easier said than done." Leonardo sighed.

Luke chuckled unexpectedly. "It's not as hard as usual, Leo. Donny's already three-quarters of the way there; take away his technology, and what else does he have to do?"

"Good point," Leo allowed. "I still think I'll pay him a visit and reinforce the orders."

Raphael smirked as his brother left the room. _Good – let him focus on Genius for a while and get off of _my _shell. _The smile faded as he looked at Luke. "He's gonna be okay, isn't he, Doc?"

The blond man nodded. "His symptoms don't give me any true cause for alarm, but we're not going to ignore them either." Luke gave him a pointed stare. "Are you ready to play nice with Jazz?"

Raphael repressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Leo already gave me the rundown, Doc."

"You're just lucky that your _wife_ isn't here, Raph. What would Karina have to say, I wonder?"

The red-masked turtle cringed at the thought. _Doc's got me there. This is the only time since they left that I'm glad Kari ain't around._

* * *

><p>When Raphael received the call from Greg that he and Brandon had picked up Jazz, he was quick to get out the door himself. He only hoped that he could beat the humans to the van entrance, to provide ample opportunity to talk to the young woman.<p>

_And if Fearless ain't around, so much the better._

The red-masked turtle waited just inside the end of the tunnel, watching for the sign of approaching headlights. He leaned against the wall with folded arms, trying to _avoid _rehearsing what he needed to say. He had taken to staring into space, when a flicker of light attracted his attention from the corner of his eye. Raphael let out a breath when he saw the Avalanche, and backed up a little further from the entrance. _Then again, there's no sense in surprising anybody. _

Raphael sighed softly and crossed in front of the opening where the others would be able to see him as they approached. Brandon was walking the fastest, and Jazz was right behind him. He watched the young woman slow in her step and then stop altogether once she was close enough to see him.

"Jazz, hey." The greeting felt weak, but he didn't know what else to say.

"Hey," she said flatly, stealing a glance at Brandon, and then at Greg behind her. "Did you guys put him up to this?"

"No, they didn't," Raphael answered quickly. "Can you just hear me out for a minute? It's not the easiest thing for me to admit when I'm wrong."

Jazz stayed rigidly where she was, but she nodded. "I'm listening."

"I'm sorry for what I said. I don't want you to leave," he said evenly.

Jazz's gaze flickered between the men who were now on either side of her, and settled back on Raphael. "As much as I appreciate all of your concern, this was never gonna last forever."

"Why wouldn't it last, Jazz?" the turtle pressed.

"You think I don't _know_ that I'm tainted?" she asked quietly. "In a way, I'm glad this happened. I don't have to fool myself into believing I could actually belong."

"Do you think you're the only one around here with a past, Jazz?" Greg spoke up. "I have a history of my own."

"Why don't I find that hard to believe?" She snorted.

"But that doesn't matter, Jazz," Raphael added. "It ain't about what you did before. It's about where you are now. You _can_ fit in with us."

"You already made it _clear _that you have a problem with my record," she argued.

Raphael blew out a frustrated breath. "I didn't _mean_ it."

"Then why would it come out that way?" she retorted.

"Because I was mad, and it was an easy target. That's the truth, Jazz, sure as I'm standing here. I'm sorry."

The young woman shuffled from one foot to the other hesitantly.

"So are you coming with us?" Raphael went on.

"It's a little late to turn back for tonight," she acknowledged.

Raphael took a step backwards and motioned for them to follow him. "I was already smelling Mike's soup when I left, so it's gotta be ready now. We should get going if we wanna eat. He might just try to force-feed Donny the whole pot," he said impishly.

The others were close enough now for him to see Jazz's perplexed expression.

"Why would he have to force-feed him? Do _we _really wanna eat this stuff?" she asked.

Brandon laughed out loud. "No reason for fear, at least not from Mike's cooking. He can be a little zealous over making sure the patient gets enough to eat."

Jazz's forehead creased. "Because he's injured?"

"He's come down with an infection or something today," Raphael filled in. "Doc's not panicking or nothing, but that's Mikey for you."

"I didn't know," she replied. "Is he going to be all right?"

"If he survived this far, a little fever ain't gonna kill him," the turtle encouraged her.

He climbed onto the Slider and settled behind the wheel as the others joined him. Raphael watched Brandon offer a hand to Jazz, and cocked his head as the two shared lingering eye contact. _Hm. _They_ seem to be warming up to each other._

"Raph." Greg's voice snapped him back to reality. "This tunnel is really scenic and all, but do you think we could head home sometime this evening?"

"Yeah, sure," Raphael said automatically, without responding to his friend's lighthearted sarcasm.

The turtle swiftly pretended like he _hadn't_ been staring, but it was hard to keep his eyes ahead of him the entire way home. When he glanced over once more, the young woman was resting her chin in her hand, with her elbow braced against the back of the seat. The rest of her frame was facing away from Brandon, and the bronze-haired man seemed more interested in the tunnel walls than anything else.

_I'm reading into them too much, _Raphael told himself. _Just watch where you're going, and stop trying to invent something._

* * *

><p>Donatello's internal clock guessed that it was probably morning, but he wasn't tempted to open his eyes. The throbbing in his temples felt much more pronounced than it had since he'd first come around from his injuries. He'd started to learn how to adapt and function with the pain, but the current intensity made him long for deep sleep.<p>

The only problem with sleeping was that he couldn't find a comfortable position in which to lay his head. No matter how he turned his neck or tried different configurations, the pressure still felt overwhelming. Donny had been worn out enough to sleep in stages the night before, but this morning the pain was even more difficult to ignore.

The purple-masked turtle had awakened alone, which led him to believe that one of the docs would _have_ to be returning soon. _I need to ask for something extra for pain, or I'm not getting more rest any time soon. _He switched to his right side to watch for someone to come through the door, fussing awkwardly with the IVs in his arm.

Raising his head was an unbearable chore, so he chose to remain draped over his pillow. _This is just what I needed; another excuse to be worthless around here. It's enough to make me want to scream at the top of my lungs._

His chocolate brown eyes widened hopefully when he saw the door inch open, but an unexpectedly colorful head of hair appeared instead of one of the men. "Jazz?" he asked confusedly. "What's up? Do you need something?"

"Sort of," she replied. The young woman slipped into the room, shutting the door with a quiet click behind her. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, unfortunately I was already up."

Jazz grimaced. "Are you in pain?"

He nodded.

"The guy with the glasses, Caleb? He's close by. I'll get him for you."

Donny detected a slump in her shoulders as she turned around to leave. "Well, hold on. Was there something else, Jazz? You came here for a reason, didn't you?"

She looked over her shoulder at him uncertainly.

"You probably don't have much time before we get interrupted, so you need to just come out with it. Have you made up your mind whether you're staying or leaving?" Donatello asked.

Jazz shrugged as she headed for a desk chair. "I think I'd like to stick around, on one condition."

"What's that?"

"I want you to tell me about Labyrinth."

His eye ridges rose. "What about it? Daystar was your thing—"

"You know something about that gatekeeper. Your comment about an outdated program having it's 'secrets' made it sound like I personally attacked _your_ work."

"You did," he replied. "Labyrinth is mine, _was_ mine, I ought to say."

"_You_ created Labyrinth."

"I'm an independent contractor," he told her. "I've designed several gatekeepers for a number of corporations. Daystar was one of them. You're right though. Labyrinth _was_ outdated, but I didn't have any control over how they handled the system. Daystar dropped me; they decided to go with someone in house to take care of their security needs."

Jazz's mouth opened, but she didn't produce a sound for several seconds. "I know who you are! You created Firestorm, Gridlock, Iron Fist—"

"You made that last one up, didn't you?" he interrupted.

"I _did_ make it up! You've been commissioned by Amhurst, Precision, Hines & Schultz…_You're_ the invisible designer? I always figured you were some anti-social nerd who lived in the Hamptons, spending your days counting piles of money!"

"The nerd part wasn't far off."

Jazz cursed, even as her face lit up. "You're a legend, a freaking genius! Punk, you're insane!"

Don was slightly taken aback. "Uh…thanks, I think."

Jazz scooted her chair closer to him. "I'm not kidding. You're amazing. This is like…the highlight of my life!"

Donatello chuckled as some of the persistent throbbing in his head faded into the background. "If you say so."

"So your program has some kinda trick up its sleeve, huh?"

"Mmm…that's where things get complicated, Jazz. A hacker doesn't typically reveal his secrets to a cracker," he said impishly.

"Oh please, you've gotta give me some clue. I don't need to know exactly how it works, but you've got to tell me how it caught me."

"If you bothered reading the legalese, you'd already know how."

"Legalese?"

"Yeah. You know, those lengthy terms of service agreements some programs force you to accept? The warning is loud and clear. Hack, and be hacked."

"So…when I cracked the firewall, Labyrinth had access to _my_ computer?"

"We have a winner," he replied.

"Okay…that makes sense. But I still don't understand how you traced me that fast."

Donatello shrugged innocently. "It's a method I call 'tagging', that essentially works in reverse. It hones in on an established signal, in this case, the cracker who's invading the system. The process involves laying down a digital signature on the offending operator, so that even if the connection gets interrupted, they can still be tracked. If you had read the terms of service for accessing Daystar, you would have realized that you gave Labyrinth free rein to invade your territory if you invaded theirs."

"My God, that's genius. Nobody reads those things!"

Donatello smirked. "You can't say I don't give anyone the chance." As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a little awkward. "Sorry. I…uh…I essentially sent you to Prison."

"You didn't send me to Prison," she said evenly. "I mean, maybe I got caught because of you, but you didn't force me to crack Daystar. You didn't choose my friends. Despite everything, I'm fairly level-headed, Donny. I take responsibility for my actions."

Donatello raised his head a couple of inches. "Is that all you wanted to know?"

"Are you kidding? I have so many questions I can barely sit still!"

He smiled tolerantly as the woman took a sharp breath.

"But it can wait, obviously," she said quickly. "I can't believe I met you. I can't believe you're here in the flesh!"

"I had no idea I had a following," he said wryly.

"People recognize the skills, Donny. Seriously, you're like my hero."

He grinned. "Does that mean you'll be sticking around a while longer?"

She nodded with an overwhelmed look. "I'd like to see someone try and drive me away. You're _stuck_ with me now."


	71. Comfortable

Leonardo took a deep draught of fresh air, breathing in the slight chill of the autumn evening. The crescent moon was a small sliver, barely visible from the rooftop upon which he was perched.

Raphael leaned against the ledge beside him, sighing heavily. "Feels good to get out, don't it, Fearless?"

Leo nodded. It was a great feeling to stretch his legs over their rooftop run, but discouragement tugged at his heart. It had been almost two weeks since their girls had left the city, and he'd placed high hopes on their original lead from the Travel Agency.

_We picked up something interesting all right, in the form of another member. As unexpected as it was, I don't see it as a bad thing. Jazz feels like an enigma; I can't wait to see how she relates to the rest of our group. We still need to figure out how we're going to make this up to her._

"Leo," his brother said curiously. "You've been staring at that same building for like ten minutes. Are you seeing something that I don't, or are you zoning out on me?"

The blue-masked turtle offered him a half smile. "No, I don't see anything. I'm just distracted."

"No kidding, Bro. What could you be thinking about?"

Leonardo chuckled, resting both arms on the concrete ledge. "Absolutely nothing, Raph." He shook his head as another somber wave overtook the brief respite. "This is one of those times when I long for Sensei the most. I'd give anything to be able to sit at his feet right now and take some direction."

Raphael's brow furrowed, and he hesitated before responding. "Leo, I know what you're saying. There are a lot of times when I'd like to talk to him myself. But…I think there comes a point when you gotta be able to trust the lessons he gave us, and your own gut. You got killer instincts, Bro, and I mean that in a good way. You can't second-guess yourself. Sensei chose you for this spot. He knew you could do it, and we do too."

Leonardo was surprised to feel emotion welling up, and his first reaction was to turn his head so that his brother wouldn't see it. "No one's immune to making mistakes, Raph. After _everything _we went through last time, and the way we fought back against crushing odds…I can't believe that we're doing this again."

"Neither can I," Raphael said darkly. "But that ain't your fault, Leo. I need to hear you say it. You did right by turning Takashi in to the cops."

"I did what I thought I had to," he murmured. "But things are different now; it isn't only about us. The Akiudo is posing a threat to a much larger group of people." He took a sharp breath. "I feel like Takashi is forcing my hand this time. He _has _to go down."

"And you're struggling with that idea," Raphael supplied.

"Taking a life isn't something any of us can do lightly," Leo said stiffly.

"What about when you're in a war, Fearless? This is no joke. They've already killed innocent people, and they're threatening to do it again. They're not coming up against able-bodied warriors. They're picking on helpless civilians, who ain't doing nothing but minding their own business. That requires action from us, Leo, and we can't go easy on them. They're too dang dangerous."

"I agree, but we're still up a river," he replied. "We can't _find_ them."

"They wanna catch up with us too, Leo. They have to turn up around here, and we're gonna be ready for them. It's time to get ruthless – we ain't got no other option."

Leonardo shivered as the wind picked up stronger. "It's not about revenge," he said to himself. "It can't be."

"No – it's about taking down the criminals before they take the _city_ down," Raphael offered. "But there's no reason we can't enjoy it."

Leo shot him a smile. "You're hopeless, Raph."

"I just say what other people are thinking."

"You have a gift for that."

"And you've gotta gift for leading us, Leo." Raphael's fist nudged his shoulder. "You're gonna know exactly what to do when the time comes, 'cause you were raised right. We _all_ were."

Leonardo nodded. _We were trained to use no more force than _necessary_. This time we have to bring it all, no question about it. We can't allow them the opportunity to bounce back again. _He looked at his watch. "Do you want to head back?"

"Not really," Raphael said honestly. "But we better."

Leo held lingering eye contact with him until Raphael cocked his head.

"What, Leo? What do you wanna say?"

"Thanks, Raph."

The red-masked turtle smirked. "I got you, Bro."

* * *

><p>Michelangelo's triumphant cry was the first thing Leonardo heard when he got the door open at home.<p>

"The game's not over, Mikey! Sit your shell down," Greg insisted in the background.

Leonardo smiled at the picture of his youngest brother celebrating whatever victory he'd just pulled out. _Mike's been so down lately. It's nice to see him enjoying himself a little, even if it's at someone else's expense._

Raphael thumped a hand on Greg's back. "Getting your tail kicked, Man? How many times does that make for tonight?"

"Shut up," the man retorted. "Again, Mike! And pick a different character to race with this time!"

Mike snickered. "You think it makes a difference who drives my car? I could choose the Princess and I'll _still _beat you."

"You gotta be able to accept defeat, Heff. Why prolong the torture?" Raphael added.

"Because the game isn't over," Greg said through clenched teeth.

Leonardo was surprised to notice Sayuri slouched across Raphael's favorite chair. The woman appeared to be dozing, completely oblivious to the noise that Michelangelo was making. _She's adjusted quickly, _he said to himself.

The red-masked turtle moved in the direction of the kitchen. "I could go for something to eat, Leo. You want?"

Leonardo turned from the scene of Mike and Greg beginning another race, and followed his younger brother into the kitchen. Brandon and Jazz were sitting at the table with the remnants of Karina's chocolate peanut butter cookies between them.

Leo stood back for a moment to watch the pair interact, and was struck by the softness in Brandon's face. Jazz looked so relaxed that he couldn't help staring. He suddenly felt awkward for entering the room, as if he and Raphael were interrupting something.

Raphael didn't appear to notice. "Hey, you're not gonna finish those off, are you?" he protested.

"We might," Brandon replied. "What are you going to do about it, Raph?"

"No way, Man, scoot over," Raphael insisted.

Brandon shifted in the young woman's direction to let Raphael in, and Leonardo grabbed a chair on the other side of the table.

"What are you guys doing with yourselves?" Leo asked casually.

Jazz shook her head. "We got bored watching Greg getting beat down. Punk doesn't know when to quit," she said. "I swear time stands still down here. It feels like every day lasts about 30 hours."

"Now you see why we had to get out for a run?" Raphael suggested.

Jazz grinned. "I'd really love to know how you guys have avoided notice for as long as you have."

Brandon chuckled. "You caught them at a rare exposed moment, Jazz. Invisibility is usually their specialty. Besides, their preferred method of exercise is out of sight of most people."

Raphael guffawed. "Yep, not too many people to run into on the rooftops."

"Rooftops?" she repeated.

"That's something you'll have to see to believe," Brandon told her.

"I can't imagine being more shocked than I already have been," the young woman returned.

Leonardo's eye ridges rose. "I don't know about that, Jazz."

"True. I have yet to meet the rest of your people," she allowed.

"What about _your_ people?" Raphael asked. "You've been here like two weeks. Isn't anybody wondering where you are?"

Jazz shrugged. "No. I keep to myself for the most part, and my parents are stationed in Germany."

"None of your friends from work will wonder what happened to you?" Leo asked.

Jazz gave the plate of cookies a small shove so that Raphael could reach it more easily. "I don't do friends."

"You don't _do_ friends?" Brandon sounded curious.

"In my experience, life is simpler when I deal with as few people as possible."

Leonardo swallowed inwardly, regretting that the subject had been broached.

"It's not supposed to be personal, like I hate the world or something," Jazz continued. "I just don't like being forced to rely on anyone else. People have a way of disappointing me, and I _always_ end up disappointing them."

The young woman stared down at the table and silence prevailed for a few seconds. "I like to make things easy. Life is hard enough without having to worry about what everyone else might be thinking of me."

"I'm with you there." Raphael grinned, and Leonardo sensed his brother trying to lighten the atmosphere. "You don't strike me as the kind of girl who'd take crap from anyone."

"I'm not really that tough, no matter what you think," she answered. "I'd rather avoid trouble than get into someone else's face."

"So…" Brandon hesitated, clearing his throat. "Is your look more about being creative, or…"

Jazz laughed at his obvious discomfort in asking. "My look…Well, it kind of evolved over the years of being an Army kid. We moved around a lot. My dad wasn't a Colonel yet, but he was climbing in the ranks, so it meant a lot of different outposts and schools. I was different; a huge geek, you might say. Every time we moved, fitting in was a little bit harder. One day I just woke up and said screw it."

The young woman smiled to herself. "My touches had to be subtle at first, or something that I could easily hide. My dad is an Army man, and he acted like it. He was a good father, strict, of course. When I went away to MIT, my style took on a whole new level. In the beginning I think it was partially about rebelling against my father and the kids I didn't fit in with. Now it's more like the zone where I feel comfortable."

"Do you keep in touch with your parents?" Brandon asked.

Jazz took a soft breath. "No, not since I was convicted. That was the nail in my coffin as far as my dad was concerned."

Leonardo winced. _Shell. No wonder she hasn't mentioned anything about them before now. This is beginning to feel too heavy._

"I'm sorry," Brandon mumbled.

She shrugged once more. "That's the way it is. Honestly, I feel sorry for _them_ sometimes. They raised us right, and it's not their fault we turned out this way."

"That's a funny way to put it," Brandon said carefully. "They abandoned you, and you feel sorry for them?"

"If you knew the backlash they had to face from my stupidity—"

"What about what _you_ had to face?" Brandon inserted. "You were set up for things you didn't do. That doesn't bother you?"

"I made my bed," she replied.

"You said _us_," Leonardo mentioned suddenly.

Her head jerked to face him. "What?"

"You said your parents raised 'us' right."

Jazz looked flustered for the first time. "Yeah, my older brother and I. But enough about my sad little life. There are so many other things we could talk about."

Leonardo nodded swiftly. "Sorry; I wasn't trying to pry."

She waved off the apology. "Don't worry about it, Leo. Did you guys see anything interesting tonight?"

"Not really. We weren't exactly looking for trouble, and we didn't find any," Leonardo told her.

"What if the wrong person sees you up there?" she wondered. "You guys got _lucky _with me. Even if I had run straight to the cops with that story, they would've taken one look at me and sent me to the loony bin."

"We don't make a habit of letting people see us," Leo explained.

"Yeah, you caught Leo on an 'off' night." Raphael snickered.

Leonardo glared at his brother. "_None _of us knew she was there."

"She still saw _your_ shell first," the red-masked turtle pointed out. "Face it, Bro. You blew our cover."

Leonardo wanted to object, but he didn't have an argument with which to return.

"And _you_ were the first one to open your big mouth!" Jazz retorted to Raphael.

"_Your_ mouth was a whole lot bigger than mine," Raphael replied.

"You sound like you wanna hear it again," she offered.

"If the kids were here, that could be considered a threat," Brandon said dryly.

"Could be?" Raph repeated. "The kids would be able to hear her all the way from North Carolina!"

Leonardo rolled his eyes, but couldn't help chuckling to himself. _The more time passes, the more comfortable she feels. I have a feeling Jazz is going to be a lifer. _


	72. Understanding

Brandon woke with a jolt, choking so hard that he felt like he couldn't breathe. When he opened his eyes to pitch darkness, the small wave of panic turned into a tsunami. He tried to take a normal breath, but it seemed that all of the air had fled from his lungs.

The man fought free from the blankets that were smothering the life out of him. Through the terror of his blindness coupled with his inability to breathe, he jerked too forcefully. Brandon felt himself falling seconds before he crashed to the floor. A shockwave of pain lit through his right arm from the way that he instinctively tried to catch himself.

In a flash, he was transported back to cold cement, the confined space, and the never-ending chills that wracked his body even when he felt too weak to shiver. Paralysis had taken over, and he was helpless to move his arm from the position in which it was trapped beneath him.

Dread leaped up in his chest as he heard the sound of the door opening. The door never meant anything good. The door could only mean freezing, or beating, or…worse.

It was impossible to steel himself for what was coming, or to ward off the impending attack. His mind was pressing him to choose fight or flight, but Brandon couldn't do either. There was no hope of fighting with or overcoming his captors, and escape was a futile dream. Instead he lay limply on the floor, waiting for whatever punishment had been dreamed up this time.

"Brandon?"

The soft voice didn't register with him at first, but then light from the hallway spilled into the bedroom, revealing the familiar form of a friend.

"Bran, what happened to your light?"

He knew it was Caleb this time, but he couldn't answer him. Air came in shallow gasps as he tried to swallow the terror that had erupted so suddenly. The bespectacled man strode into the room, and bent over Brandon as he tried to get himself under control.

"Are you okay?" Caleb refrained from touching him, but was still hovering closely enough to make Brandon feel uncomfortable.

The bronze-haired man drew in a long deep breath, refusing to make eye contact with his friend. "Yeah. I landed on my arm the wrong way, but I don't think I'm hurt."

"Your right one?" Caleb asked.

Brandon tried to sit up unsuccessfully; his muscles still felt like they were locked up.

Caleb tentatively reached to help him. Let's get you up, okay?" he offered. "We can have a look at that arm, and figure out what's wrong with your light."

Brandon's legs felt shaky as Caleb partially supported him to the side of the bed.

"Are you still experiencing any pain in your arm?

"There's some soreness, but it's not like it was before. I'm sure it's fine."

"Marcus should take a quick look to be sure, don't you think?"

Brandon began to object, but then shut his mouth. _They'll badger me to no end now that I mentioned it. I have to let Marc see it. _His breathing wasn't normal, but at least his chest felt like it was _working_. He focused solely on creating a regular rhythm while he waited for the dark-haired doctor to join them in the room that had reminded him far too much of his former cell.

He didn't raise his head until he heard someone else enter the room.

"Hey, Brandon." Marc's typically soothing voice was even more gentle than usual. "I won't make this invasive, all right? Do you mind?"

He shook his head. While the doctor was carefully probing his shoulder, Katherine slipped in from the hallway.

"Hi, Bro," she greeted him casually. "Your light bulb probably burned out. I'm just going to check that first."

Brandon nodded mutely at her, then looked at Marcus. "It doesn't really hurt. Does it feel normal to you?"

Marcus smiled reassuringly. "You're all right. You didn't hit anything else, did you?"

Brandon shook his head again, and flinched away from Marcus when he tried to rest an arm on his shoulder.

The dark-haired doctor backed up a step. "How can I help, Brandon?"

"I'm fine," he emphasized. "I just needed to catch my breath. I'm okay now."

"All right." Marcus backtracked further to the door.

The large lamp in the corner flickered back to life, and Katherine approached the side of the bed. Brandon remained motionless as the woman dropped down beside him. Though she didn't speak, he knew exactly what his sister wanted, and he felt a lump forming in his throat.

_It isn't enough to have to live with this crap; I'm supposed to sing a song about it too. When will they figure out that I'll come to _them_ when I'm ready?_

"Y'know, Bran…if you keep doing the same thing, you can expect the same result. If there's any chance that you're willing to break with your pattern, I'm here," she told him finally.

Brandon gazed at the woman, hating the earnest concern in her eyes. _I'm sick of being the focus of everyone else's worry. They might lay off a little if I talked, but for how long? If I unleash the flood, what happens next? When does it stop? Do I have to tell them _everything_? Is it okay to hold anything back? I'm not feeling this tonight. I'm really not._

"Kat, it's late," he faltered.

She shook her head. "Neither of us have anywhere to be, Brandon."

"I'm not in the right frame of mind to do this. I'm sorry. I'm not trying to push you away."

"You _have_ to let someone in," she insisted. "It's that much harder to bear because you do it alone, Bran!"

"I'm not alone. You're all here, and I'm doing the best I can, Kat. Please don't lecture me. I don't need to hear that."

Katherine stood. "I'm not trying to lecture you; I'm trying to save you. But you can't be rescued if you don't want to be."

"I've been doing better," he said defensively. "I'll get there. Give me a chance, Kat."

"You keep saying that, Bran. I don't know why you won't just give in. It would make things easier on you."

"I don't have the energy to argue with you."

"Whatever you say, Brandon." The woman swept out of the room so quickly that it startled him.

He pursued her to the door, but stayed behind the frame when he heard someone else call out to Katherine.

"Are you all right?" he heard Jazz ask the woman.

"It's nothing less than I expected," Kat replied stiffly.

"You're doing the right thing by keeping on him."

"It doesn't feel like it. Pushing him only seems to make him retreat further."

"No, Kat. You can't back down, okay? Take it from someone who knows."

Brandon's brow creased as he allowed the door to silently shut the rest of the way.

* * *

><p>Jazz rolled over for what felt like the hundredth time. She couldn't find a comfortable spot on the pull-out couch in the Lounge tonight. Truthfully, she preferred to be a night-owl, but interacting with people during the day meant being forced to <em>sleep <em>at night. _How long can I stay down here, _she wondered. _Would it make a difference to anyone on the surface if they never saw me again? Disappearing isn't entirely a bad thing._

Jazz settled onto her back, and flopped her right arm over her head. _Am I crazy for staying? Out of my mind for hiding underground with these weird people? _She heaved a sigh. _It's more interesting than what I _was_ doing._

The young woman was mid-yawn when there was a knock on the door. Jazz sat up in the semi-darkness. "Who is it?"

The door opened before an answer was delivered. She was surprised to see Brandon, and the man _didn't_ look happy. His bronze hair looked scruffier than normal with a couple of patches sticking up in places.

_He's still cute when he's mad. I wonder what he's doing here. _The man had yet to come and visit her inside the Lounge since she'd arrived.

"What's up, Brandon?" she asked cautiously. "Are you just gonna stand there?"

"Where do you get off giving people advice about me?" His voice was controlled, but it possessed an angry undercurrent.

Jazz hesitated as she considered a suitable answer. "It's not really advice, Brandon, more like encouragement. I'm not trying to tell anyone what to do; only to keep doing what they have been."

"It's unnecessary," he said shortly. "And it's not your business. Why do you feel like you have to say anything?"

Jazz bit her lip as she cast both legs over the side of the mattress. She pointed to the other couch against the opposite wall. "Sit down, Brandon."

"I'm asking for a straight answer."

"Man, sit down and shut up. I'm gonna answer your question, but I have to tell you a story first."

Brandon looked irritated, but followed her across the room.

"You'll have to forgive me for speaking out of place, Brandon, but there are reasons that I feel like I can't be silent." A self-conscious feeling spread over her as she exhaled. "Growing up in the Army wasn't a bad life, but it was complicated sometimes. That goes double for someone who had a difficult time fitting into new places, and there were _a lot_ of new places. My dad was moving up in the world, and that translated into several moves.

"My older brother James was pretty much the only thing that kept me sane. He was five years older than me, but sometimes it felt more like we were twins. We were close. I wasn't the pest or the annoying kid sister. At least, he never treated me like one. All of my courage to rebel and be my own person in those days came from him."

Jazz chuckled at the mental image as a younger, blonder version of her brother entered her mind. "He was my idol. I wanted to do everything like him. I tried to be more physical because _he_ was physical, but I didn't have the coordination for sports. He told me it was better for me to be myself than to try and be like him. I never...meshed well with normal kids. It wasn't for a lack of trying; I've just always been different, even when I was young. James was one of the only people who ever 'got' me, if you know what I'm saying. I could always count on him.

"He'd just graduated from college the same year as 9/11…and he walked away from job opportunities to enlist in the Army. He ended up getting sent to Afghanistan."

Brandon appeared to sense that the story was going somewhere. "What happened to him, Jazz?"

"About halfway through his deployment, his unit came under heavy losses. A single roadside bomb killed several men from his team. He got messed up too, but James survived. Got sent home to recover after that."

"You must have been relieved to get him back."

"I was. I thought it was a miracle that he'd made it. But it took no time at all to realize that he was different." She focused on a particular portion of the frayed rug, and said nothing for several seconds.

"Jazz?" Brandon said softly.

"I thought it was related to his physical injuries at first. My dad said he needed time to heal properly, but I was more worried about where he was mentally. James was incredibly depressed and withdrawn. He barely spoke to anyone while he was in the hospital. I thought it would be different when he came home, like he might magically come back to life.

"Of course, that didn't happen. He was just as quiet as ever, unless someone said or did the wrong thing. His temper could flare up in an instant. James was nothing like the controlled, confident, loving brother I'd grown up with. I wanted him to be normal, but I also knew it couldn't happen overnight.

"Still, as weeks turned to months, I got impatient. There were times when I felt like he was so close to turning some corner, and being my old brother. I got tired of him hiding, and I started pushing him just to get _some_ reaction. His anger was a frightening force. It got physical enough to scare me, and my dad told me to lay off of him. So I did. I let him be, and assumed James would come around in time."

Jazz swallowed as emotion threatened, and she looked away from Brandon again.

"What happened to him? I have to know," Brandon urged.

"He left," she answered. "Packed a bag, and disappeared into Tongass National Forest in Alaska."

"But what happened to him, Jazz?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. It's been eight years since anyone has seen him, and…I gave him up as dead a couple of years ago."

"Do I remind you of him?"

"In some ways, yes." She held unflinching eye contact with him for the first time since he'd entered the room. "I wish I would have kept pushing James. I wish I wouldn't have left him to his own devices. If I could go back, if I could change it, I would."

Brandon shifted on the couch. "I'm sorry about your brother. I understand where you're coming from, but…I'm not running away. I _couldn't_, even if I wanted to. These guys have me chipped. Donny would track me down in a heartbeat," he said lightly.

"In all seriousness though, you're _never_ going to start healing until you open up a little more," Jazz said bluntly.

The man sitting beside her looked defeated. "It's so much easier said than done."

"Brandon, I've seen what Post Traumatic Stress looks like, in the lives of other soldiers _and_ my own brother. Somehow you've maintained humor and a sense of hope in spite of everything, and it really sets you apart from them."

Brandon chuckled. "If it wasn't for my family, I don't think I'd be here. They're the ones who helped me keep some shred of sanity."

"Then trust them to carry part of this burden."

"They've _been _carrying me. The guys already blame themselves for everything that happened. I really don't want them to deal with what I have to live with. I don't have a choice; I can't escape it." He turned away from her, but not before she saw the tears in his eyes.

"You _don't_ have a choice," she told him. "You can't do this alone. You've got a tough family, Brandon. They can handle it. The question is, will you force yourself to unload it?"

He shook his head. "They're never going to shut up until I do," he muttered.


	73. Indian Point

***Happy one day closer to Christmas all! It's been a long time since I said anything this way, hasn't it? I _am_ alive over here. I'm not just some mindless drone posting chapter after chapter. I hope you're all having a good holiday season. On a side note, last night I opened up my stories to Anonymous reviews. I don't know why I'd never enabled them. So now if you don't have an account or don't feel like signing in (meh, sometimes it irritates me even), you can still review. Much love.**

* * *

><p>Leonardo was surprised to be roused by the phone ringing around 5:00 in the morning. He didn't bother checking the Caller ID before he snapped it open. "Hello?"<p>

"It's Indian Point; it has to be!" the caller informed him without identifying himself.

"Director Kelley?" Leonardo sat up in confusion. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"They're shutting the Plant down – all operations are being rescinded."

"That's bad news, but where are you going with this?"

"I think that the Akiudo is up to something that involves the Power Plant. The dead body we pulled from the firefight at the docks? His remains tested with a high concentration of strontium 90."

"The stuff the Plant was leaking into the Hudson?"

"The Plant has had their safety issues for years, Leonardo, but a complete shutdown? The environmental threat suddenly comes to the forefront, at the same time that we pick up a terrorist who's so radioactive that he ought to be glowing? There's nothing typical about this."

"Do the authorities know he's radioactive? Are they going to do anything about this, Director?"

"It's an ongoing investigation. I suggested the possibility of a link between the suspect and Indian Point, but no one else wants to make the connection. A lot of important people want that Plant shut down; they've been lobbying for this for years. They _want_ to portray this as safety issues on the part of the facility."

"What's going to happen with power in the city?"

"There could be instability and rolling blackouts. But that's the least of our worries if the Akiudo is plotting an attack that involves the Plant!"

"Isn't there anyone else out there who's willing to consider the chance that this 'accident' could have been intentional?"

"Some of them are willing to look into it. I told you that there's an open investigation, but you can't imagine how long this might take! The Akiudo will have a _boatload_ of time to act before anything definitive is uncovered!"

"Doesn't the Plant have security?"

"In times past, it's been considered a major terrorist target. If you go to research Indian Point on Google Earth, you won't even find it on the map. The authorities have blocked out the image. There's a permanent National Guard Outpost nearby, but that doesn't guarantee protection. You said these men would go to any length to accomplish their goal!"

"They will, Director, that's just a fact. I'm not questioning whether or not they could be attempting to pull something off at the Plant. I'm just trying to think things through."

"I'm on my way down there, Leonardo, and we can think _together_."

"Uh…okay. Do you remember where the van entrance is?"

"I do."

"I'll meet you out there with a Slider, and I'll ask someone to set the coffeemaker."

* * *

><p>Less than an hour later, Leonardo was warily sitting in the living area with Kelley, and Luke, Katherine, Greg, and Sayuri had joined the party. Matthew Kelley looked like he hadn't slept in about 48 hours, but the man barely let anyone else get a word in edgewise.<p>

"It doesn't make sense, the Akiudo being silent for this long. They have Greg's number; why haven't they called him back? Why didn't they say a word after the battle at the docks?" Kelley wondered.

Greg shrugged. "I don't know why, Sir, but I swear they haven't contacted me, and I don't have any missed calls."

"Maybe I'm being paranoid," Kelley allowed. "Maybe I'm searching for a disaster where it doesn't exist, but that man's radioactivity levels…I talked to experts, people who _know_ about the isotopes. The substance can be ingested or inhaled, and then it sticks around for a long time. Strontium 90 behaves like calcium in the body, building up deposits in the bones and teeth.

"A high enough concentration will kill you in the long run. There's always the chance the man could have been exposed through another source, but this feels fishy to me. Will someone else either agree with me, or tell me I'm off my rocker?"

"If you'd give us the chance to agree with you, I would," Leonardo said mildly.

The man's shoulders slumped wearily. "I'm sorry for busting in like this. I haven't even been home in three days. Been too busy trying to sort out this mess with Indian Point and the authorities."

"I think some sleep would do you good," Greg said.

"I will, I'll sleep. I just need to talk this through a little more…" Kelley trailed off as the main door to the Den opened, and another figure entered the room.

Tim looked around the living area in confusion as he stripped off his NYPD jacket. "Uh…hi, everyone. You all got up to meet me?" he offered impishly.

"It's Indian Point," Luke volunteered. "The authorities are shutting it down, and Director Kelley has reason to believe that the Akiudo may have been involved with the latest accident."

Timothy shook his head. "I'm going to need some coffee before I can deal with any of this."

Katherine rose. "I'll get you some." Kelley raised his hand, and she gave him a stern look. "You look like you've already consumed your fair share of caffeine, Sir. You need _sleep_."

Leonardo felt himself drawn to gaze at Sayuri as the rest of the conversation faded into the background. The Asian woman looked like she'd withdrawn from the room.

"Sayuri?" Leonardo said questioningly.

Her head jerked as if he'd startled her. "Leonardo-san?"

"Where are you?" he asked.

"I am here – I was just thinking," she answered.

"About what?" Greg asked. "No one has more years of research invested into this gang than you do."

"I am considering their motivation, Greg-chan. It's important to discover what they are doing, but I feel it's necessary to learn _why _they are behaving this way too."

"Stopping them is what matters, isn't it?" Luke asked. "We know their motivation doesn't come from a good place. What else is there?"

Sayuri fixed the doctor with a stern look. "There is _much_ else, Luke-san. It's a matter of how far they are willing to go, and who they want to hurt. To perform an attack involving the Indian Point would send a powerful message, and I don't think it is only intended for the turtles."

She glanced at Leonardo. "They want to make a point to a large group of people – perhaps the entire country."

"What makes you say that?" Tim asked. "Do you think Takashi would knowingly put _himself_ in danger of a nuclear meltdown?"

"No, but…if he was far away from here, then he would not stand the risk for exposure," Sayuri replied.

"The thing is, nuclear reactors can melt down, but they're not designed to blow up," Luke said. "The environmental impact would be large and it could make many people sick in the long run. But an attack on Indian Point doesn't seem like it would have the instantaneous gratification of taking human lives."

The Asian woman sighed anxiously. "All I am trying to say is that whatever Takashi intends to do with Indian Point, it likely has nothing to do with the turtles. I don't think they're the only reason the Akiudo is here." Sayuri looked back at Leonardo. "We have been under the impression that the gang has another purpose for existing than we originally thought. Perhaps it was their true goal all along, and the slave trade was little more than a vehicle to help Takashi get where he wanted to go.

"The Akiudo came to the United States years ago, before Takashi ever knew anything about the 'Shitenno'. Why did they come here to begin with? Have any of you considered asking yourselves that question?" she finished.

"I think we assumed that they were trying to grow their business," Leo replied.

"But it was a great risk to take, making the jump to the United States," Sayuri persisted. "They were much better off staying in Okinawa, where the authorities weren't acknowledging their existence."

"What are you saying then?" Kelley asked. "Do you think they have a personal vendetta against our country?"

"It's beginning to seem more likely," Sayuri affirmed.

Leonardo rested his chin in his hand. "In that case…it really doesn't matter _what_ we do," he said softly. "The Akiudo is interested in carrying out a large scale attack against the city, whether they get their hands on us or not." Calley's words from days before concering devastation were coming back to mind, and he suddenly felt dizzy. "We need to find out what's going on at that facility."

"Officials are still crawling all over it. There's no way the Akiudo has moved in yet," Kelley filled in.

"That's true for the moment," Greg said. "But the gang always has a plan."

"What the shell, Man?" Raphael demanded from the banister on the second story above them. "Who decided to throw a breakfast meeting and not invite _us_?"

"C'mon down, Bro," Leo invited him. "There's no breakfast yet, but we can fill you in on the details."

"Not me," Kelley said at once. "I need to go home and talk to my wife."

"About the Akiudo?" Leonardo almost choked on the words.

"No, I told you I'm not involving my family in any part of this. I haven't figured out what to tell her, but I have to get her and my daughter to leave the city. There's big trouble on the horizon, and I want them gone before the gang tries to trigger something that changes all our lives forever."

* * *

><p>Matthew Kelley felt as if he weighed a thousand pounds as he finally walked through the front door of the three-story Victorian in Chelsea that was Ellen's dream house. It was close to 8am by the time he arrived, which meant that his daughter had already left for school.<p>

When he didn't find his wife inside the house, there was only one other logical place to search for her. Kelley peered out the window above the sink in the kitchen, and saw the raven-haired woman kneeling in the remnants of her garden. Most of the flowers had already died, but the vibrant colors of the hardy mums she'd planted weeks ago were a stark contrast to his dark mood.

He crossed out of the kitchen door onto the back porch. "Ellen?"

Her short black hair flipped as she spun in his direction. "Matthew! I wasn't expecting you so early. I thought you said—"

The man bounded off the porch to meet her. "I know what I said, Ellen, but things have changed. I need you to do something for me, without understanding why."

Her brow furrowed and her delicate nose wrinkled slightly, the way it always did when he said something that perplexed her. "Matthew, you look terrible. Have you had any sleep?"

"No, but that's not the point. I want you to take Laurie and go to your Mother's house in Indiana for a few days."

Ellen got to her feet. "You want us to get out of the city."

"Yes."

"And you think I'm going to uproot out daughter from school and leave everything behind without any explanation?"

"You know how complicated these things are—"

"I'm not interested in hearing classified information, Matthew! But I'm not abandoning you and our home without a clue as to what I'm running from."

He was silent for a moment. "If you saw the News this morning, you know they're shutting down Indian Point."

"They said there's been a large accident—"

"That's what most people believe, but I'm not one of them. I have reason to suspect that the same men who attacked the subways may be tampering with the Plant."

Ellen stared at him. "But…they attributed it to the Plant's safety record. They have a history of leaks."

"I know that, Ellen, but that may not be the case. I don't want to take the risk. I want you to leave."

"And you won't come with us."

"I can't," he said tightly.

"Why?" she demanded. "Because the job is more important than we are?"

"Ellen, the Officials aren't making the connections with the terrorists that I have."

"Are you saying you know more than the rest of them?"

"I'm saying that the city could be in tremendous danger, and the only thing these people are concerned with is closing the Plant for good. They don't see the possibility for an attack from an outside source. That's why I have to stay. That's why I can't leave."

She turned away from him and stalked toward the house.

He hurried after her. "Ellen, you can't be angry with me for this! It's my _job_. I have to help protect this city."

"I can be angry with you if I want to! I'm your wife and _I'm_ the one who loves you." Her voice broke as she stared down at the sink.

"Ellen—"

"I don't want to hear it."

"You _need_ to hear it. I swore an oath, and I have a responsibility to uphold it. You are going to run with our daughter, because you have the opportunity to do so."

"And you get to die because it's your duty," she said tersely.

"I never said I was going to die, Ellen. There's no guarantee that the city is under a nuclear threat. I don't want to take any chances though, not with you or Laurie. Please_, go_."

She finally turned around the face him, and allowed him to draw her into his arms.

"This scares me," Ellen told him.

"It scares me too; I wouldn't send you otherwise."

The woman brushed a hand through her hair to straighten it. "I suppose I should pack a few things and go pick up Laurie."

Matthew nodded as Ellen impulsively wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Are you going to go save the world?" she asked ironically.

"I'm going to try."


	74. Neutral

Donatello was sick of being hot. The intermittent fever seemed to be a harmless response to the infection he was battling, but it left him extremely uncomfortable. _With the trouble we have holding on to heat, you'd think I'd appreciate the opportunity to be warm, _he thought ironically, shaking his head. _But then, I'm irritated in general. I've definitely had enough of this bed._

He rolled over to face the desk where he could see his laptop, waiting out of reach. The turtle sighed longingly, right before there was a knock at the door. Brandon peeked around the door into the room.

Donatello forced what felt like a normal smile. "What's up?"

"Just coming to check on the patient."

"You're not here to spring me?" Donny suggested hopefully.

"I'm not sure. Do you think we could handle that, Jazz?" Brandon directed behind him, and the young woman entered the room too.

"It's not worth it, Donny," she told him. "You just have to serve your time."

"Ha," he said dryly. "You should be a comedian."

Jazz's grey eyes registered sympathy. "Has Luke been letting you do _anything_?"

Donatello automatically looked over at his laptop again, and Jazz followed his gaze. She glanced over her shoulder as if the wrong person was watching, then strode over to the desk to retrieve the computer.

"No one should be cut off from their true love," she said.

Donny chuckled. "You're going to get yourself in trouble."

"What's the worst they can do to me, really?" Jazz scoffed. "Once you've been to Prison, you realize how silly it is to be afraid of the small stuff."

The purple-masked turtle accepted the laptop from her. "Thank you."

"Unplugging a hacker from his computer is the _real _crime here." Jazz flashed him a smirk.

Brandon snorted. "Make sure you tell Luke that."

"You think I won't?" she challenged.

"No, I'm sure you're up for it, but you haven't seen what Luke's like when he's angry," Brandon returned, nudging her warningly from behind.

She punched his shoulder in response. "Bring him on, Brandon. He can't be any worse than those crazy Akiudo."

Donatello's eye ridges rose as he watched the two of them. _Interesting. With the frame of mind Brandon's been in, I wouldn't have imagined there could be a strong attraction. They sure _look_ like they're into each other. I wonder if anyone else has noticed. _He turned away before either of them could realize that he was staring, and opened the lid of his computer.

"Anything new on the radar this morning?" Don asked.

His visitors dragged chairs over to sit down.

"Well…they're closing down Indian Point," Brandon offered. "Kelley thinks the Akiudo has something to do with it.

"Wha…" Donatello didn't even bother to finish the word. _Nobody is telling me anything, _he silently fumed. "Is there a plan?" he demanded. "Are the guys going to do something?"

Brandon shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Not yet. I know Kelley asked his family to leave town though."

Donatello trembled as a cold chill washed over him. "He must have a compelling reason to believe that the gang could be messing with the Plant. Is anyone else in authority taking it seriously?"

Brandon and Jazz exchanged a glance, and the man looked back at Donatello. "The general consensus is that it's a giant industrial accident."

"Oh, sure it is," Don muttered. "Just like Takashi was murdered by a suicidal vigilante in Okinawa. Is there anything _else_?"

Brandon shrugged. "Not that I'm aware of. Thousands are already without power on the surface."

The turtle winced. "Shell. It's only going to get worse, isn't it?" Donatello closed his eyes briefly. _There's so much more at risk than blackouts. And we're not doing anything? We've got to get some eyes inside the Plant!_

He gazed down at the computer on the tray in front of him. _I guess I'm going to have to get my news off the Internet, since hardly anyone wants to tell me anything._

"Is there something else I can do for you?" Brandon asked carefully.

"Not unless you can smuggle in some coffee."

The man laughed. "No promises, Don, but I'll do my best." Brandon shot Jazz another smile. "You can hold down the fort?"

"I've got him," she replied.

Donny rolled his eyes. _There's no middle ground. Either I'm being ignored, or I'm being treated like some little kid._

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Impatient," he answered. "I'm tired of being seen as an invalid, even if that's what I am."

"Yeah. I bet that's irritating."

"It wouldn't be as bad if the Akiudo wasn't out there doing who _knows_ what. I need to get back on trying to track them down."

"Is that your sole responsibility?"

Donatello shrugged. "I specialize in all things technical."

"But you do more than that, right? You can kick some serious tail like your brothers. I watched Leo and Raph sparring yesterday. I thought they were gonna kill each other."

He laughed. "No, we save that for special occasions."

Jazz shook her head. "The four of you combined must be something else. I bet you give those Akiudo a run for their money."

"We do our best."

"Greg _told_ me about the amazing stunt you pulled at their place on that island."

"You mean the flood? That was Leo's idea, and we just barely pulled it off. I didn't have time to mess with all of the fail safes that were in place to prevent such an event. I was cut off from my brothers; the Akiudo was already onto Greg, Sayuri, and me…I had to improvise."

Jazz motioned for him to continue. "So what did you do? How did you bypass the security features?"

He grinned. "It was simply a matter of dealing with the sensors that communicated water levels back to the computers. I overloaded the devices with too much power to force the sensors to short out. It was a lot more effective than trying to find a way around them."

"You _aren't_ just a one-trick pony. I get overwhelmed wondering about the things you're capable of."

"You'll never realize what you're truly capable of until you're backed into a corner with no way out," he said ironically, but his smile faded. "That day was supposed to be the end of it for the Akiudo." He rubbed a hand over his eyes, discouragement making them feel heavier. "Can we focus on something other than that wretched gang?"

Jazz was quiet for a long moment, and he saw her staring at his computer. "What about you, Jazz? Are you going to tell me you haven't touched a computer since getting out of Prison?"

"That's my punishment," she said evenly.

"Uh huh," he said skeptically.

She gave him a hint of a smile. "Where there's a will, there's a way. I've stayed on top of the latest technology through literature. There's no rule against me _reading _about computers, is there? That's not the same as physically accessing a terminal."

The turtle still had his doubts. "It wouldn't be _hard_ for you to access a computer," he remarked. "I bet you know of people who could hook you up."

"I'm not going there, Donny. I'm not a career cracker; I thought I made that clear to you." Jazz looked disappointed.

"I didn't mean you were searching for trouble," he said hastily. "I just know how deep the love of technology runs."

She nodded. "It leads you to take one of the few menial jobs that will hire an ex-con, just because it puts you in a position to use a computer once in a while."

"Oh, yes." Donatello understood. "The places you cleaned? You were using their machines?"

"For small windows of time. I found a team within my Agency that took longer breaks because they liked to drink. It usually earned me some play-time with a computer, at least twice a week."

He chuckled. "So you found a way." Donny was surprised to feel some of his irritation over being left out of the loop fizzling.

Jazz lounged back further in her chair. "I ain't gonna lie, Donny: I liked cracking. I enjoyed the challenge and feeling like I was overcoming something. When you're small and insignificant, and then get a taste of that kind of power…it's intoxicating. But not at someone else's expense," she added quickly.

"Technically speaking, I do a lot of cracking too," Don admitted. "I've probably broken more laws domestically and internationally than you _ever_ will. That's why your motivation mattered to me so much. All of us are law-breakers, Jazz, every member of this family. But as you said, it's not at the expense of other people. We do what we have to in order to find the bad guys and save lives."

Jazz pursed her lips. "I've never come close to saving someone."

_You're probably closer than you think_, he thought inwardly, recalling the image of her and Brandon together. _Where did he end up? I thought he was coming right back._

"But hypothetically speaking, if you were to pick up a computer right now, do you still have it in you?" he continued.

"Cracking you mean? Why do you wanna know?"

He shrugged, though he had his reasons for asking. "It's just a question. Have you done any since you got out?"

Jazz shook her head. "No. All I've done is stick my feet in the kiddie pool, the shallow end of the Internet. I haven't come close to breaking and entering, and I don't have any plans to. Is that what you wanna hear?"

_Not necessarily_, he thought. "I'm just wondering where you stand and what you'd be capable of."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to recruit me, Turtle."

"Is that crazy?"

"You're the good guys, remember? How would that make any sense?"

"Since when were you a bad guy?"

"Most people already think of me that way," she replied.

"But you said yourself that you don't want to hurt anyone, Jazz. That doesn't mesh with a bad guy's motivation. I've known enough of them to be able to tell the difference."

"I'm not a _good_ guy, so what does that make me then?"

"In the past, I don't think you were trying to be either one. You've walked this middle line, and tried not to be swayed too far in either direction, Jazz. That won't work forever; you have to choose a side at some point. Do you know what can happen when you try to remain neutral in a time of war? I have one word for you – Belgium."

"Belgium?"

"When the German army began invading Poland in the Fall of 1939, Belgium and the Netherlands made a joint public appeal to terminate the war, and announced their neutrality. The country had already suffered through World War I because of having Germany and France as their neighbors, and they wanted to avoid being caught up in it again.

"Regardless, Belgium was occupied by Germany in the Spring of the following year. The country had made very few preparations for the case of an invasion, because they trusted in their diplomatic relations. Instead, Belgium fell to Germany in only 18 days."

"Am I supposed to be Belgium?"

"The thing is, no matter how hard you try to avoid taking a side, eventually someone is going to decide things _for_ you."

"I'm confused. Are you talking about the Akiudo, or something else?"

"At the moment, I'm only referring to where you choose to stand, Jazz. You don't want to fit in alongside anyone, and I understand that you've kept yourself unattached partially for defense. But sooner or later, you have to choose to be one thing or the other. Do you get what I'm saying?"

"I get it," she said softly.

"Between you and me, Jazz, you're not cut out to be a bad guy."

"You don't think so?"

"Nope," he replied. "First of all, you're way too cool for that. Secondly, you have a good heart. Bad guys don't care about people the way you do, especially when they don't know them well."

"Who said I cared?"

"Call it a sixth sense." Donatello struggled to keep a straight face, and turned his head as he heard someone raising their voice outside the Lab.

"Bran, that's _enough_!"

"What was that?" he wondered aloud.

"Got me, Donny." Jazz got to her feet, heading for the door as it burst open.

"Brandon, I'm not kidding. The game is up, and I'm getting into that room!"

Don recognized Luke's voice this time, and he had to cover his mouth at the sight of the bronze-haired man doggedly refusing to give the doctor easy access to the Lab.

"Don't make me call for reinforcements, Brandon; I swear I'll do it!"

Brandon cast a look over his shoulder at Donny. "Sorry, Don, I held him off for as long as I could! I hope you got to do something useful with that thing."

Donatello looked at the computer, which he hadn't even turned on. _Depends on the definition of "useful". I think the conversation with a live human was more important._

"Donny! You tell him to back up, or I'm taking your phone away next!" Luke called.

"You and what army, Doc?" Brandon laughed.


	75. Tagged

Leonardo felt like he was floating. It had taken longer than normal to get to that state, but he'd finally attained the calm for which he'd been striving. Here there were no questions or uncertainties; there was no failure or disappointment. Renewing waves of peace lapped gently against his conscious mind like the tide on the seashore.

His heart-rate and breathing slowed as he lingered in the tranquil place. Leonardo was never able to remain there as long as he wanted to, but it seemed pointless to lament that now. He appreciated every second he could savor.

Leonardo had given himself completely over to the environment, which was something that he usually didn't do. The turtle preferred to hold back a portion of his awareness to stay grounded in reality at the same time. Today he was so frustrated by inaction that he abandoned himself in the hope of pursuing peace.

The breeze was picking up around him and his pulse increased with it, no longer seeming to be at rest. The wind wasn't a nuisance. Rather than floating, the air current made him feel like he could fly.

The bang of a door abruptly interrupted his ascent, but Leonardo was past the ability to be startled. The turtle had a strong sense of discouragement as he opened his eyes, however, it sounded like the real world was calling.

"Leo, he's on the phone! He's on the phone and Donny needs ya!" Raphael exclaimed.

"Who's on the phone?" Leonardo asked as he rose.

"The King of England, Bro, who do you _think_? Hurry up; Don said he needs you now!"

Leonardo picked up his pace rapidly, but froze when he saw Greg on his phone in the living area.

The man made eye contact with Leonardo, and motioned him toward the Lab emphatically as he spoke to the caller. "I can make the connection for you, Takashi, but you'd better be ready to deal with us directly! All the sneaking around in the background is pretty juvenile, don't you think?"

The blue-masked turtle hurried into the adjoining room to find his younger brother already on his laptop, and Jazz behind one of the terminals at the desk. "What's going on, Don? Can you trace him through Greg's signal?"

"It's all a matter of timing, Leo!" Donny returned. "I've never gained control of the satellite in less than five minutes! I'm hoping that Jazz's distraction can shave off some of that wait, but I need your help too! Take the phone from Greg and keep Takashi on the line for as long as you can! It's possible…" Donatello trailed off with a curse. "He just hung up on Greg!"

"Don, he'll call back," Leonardo said evenly. "It sounded like Greg was trying to barter with him to give us an opportunity to talk. Get inside your satellite thing and be ready to trace him. I'll go wait with Greg just in case he calls back, and I will do whatever it takes to keep him on the phone."

"Promise him the moon if you have to, Leo! Operating in reverse through Greg's signal is going to take me a couple of minutes on _top _of what I have to accomplish with the satellite!"

"Breathe, Don," he urged him. "You can do it." He cast a quick glance over at the young woman sitting behind a keyboard. Jazz looked more energized than he could ever remember her appearing. Leonardo focused on Donatello once more. "I'm going to join Greg. Do you want someone to tell you when Takashi calls back?"

"I'll know," Don said distractedly. "I'm already focused on the signal coming from Greg's phone, waiting for it to make another connection. Go, Leo!"

Greg held up his hands helplessly as Leonardo reentered the living area. "I was trying to keep him on the phone, Leo. It just wasn't enough to—" The vibrating cell phone on the coffee table cut off the rest of his sentence. The man stared down at the device for a beat, and looked at Leonardo. "You take it. He wants to talk to _you_."

The turtle calmed himself with a deep breath before he picked up the phone. "Hello?" he greeted emotionlessly.

"It feels good to hear your voice, Tamonten," Takashi replied.

"You have no right to address the heavenly king," he told him.

"I am going to require your cooperation in this matter, Leonardo. I did not call to contact mere earth-bound creatures."

"As I've told you in the past, Tamonten will not speak with you just because you _require_ him to. To approach a heavenly king demands humility; a trait you are sorely lacking, among other things."

"Do you understand what is at stake, Leonardo?" Takashi's voice cut sharply across the line. "I fear you are still viewing me through a small lens, and cannot perceive the grave threat."

"I've learned not to underestimate you, Takashi, but it seems you've learned _nothing_ about us. You still possessed your _life_ inside Prison, even if it was restrained. You're throwing that away with every threat that comes out of your mouth. We've showed you mercy in the past, which you've no doubt interpreted for weakness. We are fully capable of dealing strongly with you," he said meaningfully.

"You are behaving as if you have some type of advantage, Leonardo, but it is I who holds this city hostage by a thread. I spare no love for its people, or for you. I do not wish to speak with _you_ at all, but the king who desires to remain elusive. If you are not willing to grant me an audience—"

"I'm not standing in his way!" Leonardo interrupted. "Don't you understand that _he_ leads, and not me?"

"Then I suggest you try to reason with the king, Leonardo, else I have nothing more to say to you."

"All right, hold on! Don't go anywhere," Leonardo ordered, his mind racing. _I have to make it convincing, or he'll be gone in five seconds. What would the Shitenno say? How would he respond? _

The turtle took a silent breath and plunged ahead. "_I grow tired of your demands, son of Man, and even wearier of your arrogance," _Leonardo proclaimed in the monotone he'd used in the past. _"For what purpose do you wish to speak with me? Do you imagine that I can be as easily swayed as your underlings?"_

_"Why did you choose _this_ place, Tamonten?" _Takashi asked.

It wasn't a question that Leonardo expected, and he decided to answer vaguely. _"Of the great matters of heaven and earth, your feeble mind cannot comprehend. We are here in this time and place because it was appointed so, or do you not realize that even we as the heavenly kings receive orders of our own?"_

_"It feels to me like the ultimate betrayal," _Takashi said. "_You concern yourselves with these American meddlers, those who invaded and have occupied our homeland for decades. How can you not see them for the blight that they are?"_

_"I see the blight of _your_ heart, son of Man, and you have received far too many opportunities to renounce it."_

_"What do you intend to do with me, Tamonten? Will you destroy me, while you blindly allow our enemy to rule?"_

_"Our hosts are content—"_

_"I am not speaking of your hosts," _Takashi cut him off. _"I am referring to the country in which you choose to reside and protect."_

_Sayuri's right, _Leonardo realized. _This _isn't_ just about us. He's got issues with the United States as a whole, and he intends to do something drastic._

_"You dare interrupt me, son of Man?" _Leonardo's voice narrowed dangerously.

_"I beg your pardon, Tamonten, but my time is short. I have many things to accomplish today. While it is a thrill to speak with you, it is also clear that we will never agree on a number of things. You possess a deep love for this country."_

_"We value _all_ life," _Leonardo retorted. _"Even one such as yours, which is why you were not brutally killed when last you faced my host. Be assured that if you continue your senseless assault of the innocents, mercy will be completely withdrawn."_

_"You can tell your _host_ that I am ready for him, Tamonten. I may have underestimated his ability before, but that is a mistake I will not repeat. I rather look forward to seeing him again and evening the score."_

_"I am certain that you will _try_," _Leonardo stated as evenly as possible. _"But what of the people of this country who have no means by which to defend themselves?"_

Takashi laughed scornfully. "_If one cannot live with causalities, one is not qualified to rule."_

Leonardo clenched his jaw angrily, canceling out the urge to curse at the man. _"Their bloodshed is dishonorable in my sight," _he proclaimed. "_Are you so afraid to meet with us face to face that you will continue waging a 'war' on those who cannot fight back?"_

_"I have not stopped you from coming to me. What are _you_ waiting for? If you are in such a hurry to deal with me, then come, Tamonten. If you are waiting for me to set up a meeting with your hosts, it is going to take a little more time. Thank you for deigning to speak with me, but I must be going."_

"Takashi—" Leonardo called after him, even though he heard the click on the other end. The turtle lowered the phone in slow motion as fear pulsed through his veins. _He's got a grudge against the United States. I should have expected something like this. I should have known!_

"Leo!" Greg's voice broke him out of thought, and he looked up at the man.

The blue-masked turtle shook his head morosely. "I lost him, and I don't think he's coming back any time soon."

"_No_, Leo! We got him!"

"What? It _worked_?" Leonardo leaped up and ran for the Lab. "Don, are you sure? You've got his location narrowed down?"

"As long as he holds onto that phone," Donatello said without glancing up. "It was beautiful, Leo. It took 90 seconds to get control of the satellite, and from there I was only backtracking through Greg's signal. Now that Takashi's phone is tagged—"

"You never really explained what that means," Leonardo interjected.

"I branded him with a digital signature, which gives me the ability to track the phone."

"But Takashi won't know that it's there?"

"No more than the typical cracker who's dumb enough to attack one of your brother's gatekeepers." Jazz snorted, rolling away from the desk. "_That_ was off the chain, Donny! Did you already give the satellite up?"

The purple-masked turtle seemed to be repressing a smile. "I only borrowed it temporarily, Jazz. You did well. The panic you created was so effective that I was able to sneak right through the madness. I couldn't have done it that quickly without your help."

"You need to clone yourself, and you'll be good to go," she said impishly. "You just made my life, in any case."

"Then where's Takashi?" Leonardo asked suddenly.

"He's on the move currently," Don supplied. "I'm going to keep the tracking program open, and I'll watch his comings and goings. He has to settle down eventually, and my guess is that the rest of the Akiudo will be there too."

Leo nodded. "I'm going to call Kelley to tell him where we're at. Nice job you two…you just broke this thing wide open."

Greg was standing in the doorway behind him, and Leonardo promptly handed his phone back to him.

"Kelley should probably join us," the man suggested. "His family is already out of the picture, and he's the one who got us all started on Indian Point this morning."

"I agree; I'll invite him to come back. Once we have the Akiudo's headquarters nailed down, we're going to have some swift strategizing to do."

Leonardo stepped back into the living area and dialed Kelley on his phone. The man answered wearily on the fourth ring, and the turtle instantly recalled he hadn't had much sleep.

"Oh, shell, I forgot you're running on empty," Leonardo exclaimed.

"I'm awake," Kelley stated. "What's going on?"

"We got a call from Takashi, and Don was able to trace it this time."

"What? _How?_ Where is he?"

"Takashi's on the road right now. Donny's watching him, and he'll let us know when the signal from the phone becomes stationary."

"How is he tracking the phone?"

"I'm not sure if you want to hear the answer to that," Leo replied evasively. "But Takashi doesn't know that we're on to him. If we're going to catch him off guard, this is our best chance. We'll start strategizing soon, and I thought you'd want to be in on it."

"I'll be down there as soon as I can."

Leonardo nodded. "I'll come around to meet you again. We've got a lot more to talk about."


	76. Suicide

***Merry Christmas to all. :) I hope you're enjoying family and friends today. counting blessings and laughing until it hurts. Have a wonderful day.**

* * *

><p>Michelangelo was vibrating so hard that he could feel the chair shaking beneath him. <em>Good thing I decided to sit by myself, <em>he thought ironically. _Being still at a time like this doesn't feel like an option. _

He shot a grin at his purple-masked brother, who'd been transferred to the living area for a meeting that was far too important for him to miss. Don gave him a faint smile in return; he looked tired, but he also appeared satisfied. _He _should_ be satisfied. Donny pulled off something huge, and it's gonna change everything._

"Are you comfortable, Bro?" Mike asked.

Donny made a face. "That's not important right now."

Jenna circled Donatello's recliner and pulled up a folding chair beside him. "Speak up if you need something, hon."

Don gave her a withering look, and Mike could imagine what he was thinking. _Donny just wants to be treated normally for a few minutes. I'm glad he's out here with us. We need his voice, even if we can't have him for the action._

"Can I have some coffee?" Donatello requested hopefully, shooting a look in Luke's direction.

The blond-haired doctor appeared to be thinking about it.

"Boy, you're one tough warden, aren't you?" Jazz spoke up. "Don't you know there's such a thing as getting time off for good behavior? He _did_ make the impossible happen."

Donatello chuckled. "I should hire you to be my lawyer, Jazz. And we made it happen _together_."

The young woman made a scoffing sound. "Yeah, that was a 'team' effort like an Administrative Assistant runs a big Corporation."

"Some of them know more about the every day dealings of the businesses than the CEO's," Don offered.

"Yes, you can have coffee," Luke inserted finally. "But that doesn't equate an entire pot."

"You're the best, Doc," Donny told him.

"Sure, because I'm giving you what you want. Don't think I'm going to become your pushover."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Doc," Don replied.

Michelangelo smiled as he watched Molly lay her head on the armrest of Donny's chair.

"Your buddy's glad to see you out here too," Mike commented impishly.

Donatello scratched the Border Collie's white ears. "Hey, good girl."

The orange-masked turtle chuckled softly. _That dog thinks Don's the greatest thing that ever walked the planet. She's not far off either._

Mike heard the sound of the main door opening, and jolted to his feet so fast that it startled the orange and white cat that had been lounging across the back of his chair. Tiger went tearing across the floor as if Olivia was hot on her tail, while a voice filtered inside from the tunnel.

"…but if we can nail him down to a _specific_ location, it makes sense to call in the bigger guns! Surely you haven't forgotten about the encounter at the docks!" Kelley's booming tone filled the space.

"Director, we'll get into all of that," Leo returned patiently. "It's far more complicated than it sounds."

Mike's eyes traveled to the stairs as he heard someone coming down, and he noticed a rare shadow across Katherine's face. The woman rubbed reddened eyes as if she was tired, but the turtle knew better. _Kat must be miserable without her little girl. I miss Nate like crazy, and I've only known him a few months._

Luke noticed Kat appear too, and got up to meet her. It seemed like Katherine was going to shy away from his advance initially, but then she accepted his hand to lead her to the couch. Her face was flat and emotionless in the light of the living area, but it was impossible to hide the strain completely.

Mike turned his head so that she wouldn't catch his gaze and feel worse than she already did. _Shell, it's hard to feel like you're choosing your job over your kid, if it can even be called that. I mean, it's not like we're going around delivering newspapers or something. We're trying to save the city from another disaster. _

_We can't leave New York to fend for themselves against the threat they don't understand, but that _does_ mean pushing other important things to the side. This must be sorta like what a soldier feels when he goes overseas and leaves everything behind. The Akiudo were polite enough to come to us this time, but for the sake of the city, I'd rather be forced to commute._

"Please sit down, Director," Leonardo urged. The blue-masked turtle cast a swift glance at Donatello, and the younger turtle nodded.

_I wonder what that's supposed to mean. I'm sure we'll all find out soon enough._

Don opened the lid of his laptop and began typing while the rest of the room was still settling down. Mike couldn't hear the sound of the keys over the voices in the room, but the look on Donatello's face was one of familiar control. _He knows exactly what he's doing. _This seemed to be authentic genius mode for his brother, and it excited Michelangelo to see

All throughout his brother's ordeal, Mike had experienced nagging doubt in the back of his mind that fed into the fear that Donatello might never be the same again. _Things still aren't perfect with him, but I think his mind is stronger than any of the docs had dared to hope for._

Michelangelo broke away from Don to scan the rest of the room, which had settled into heavy silence. Leonardo was the only one _not _sitting down. The blue-masked turtle remained on his feet, standing near Donatello.

"All right," Leo said decisively. "For the first time in days, we have reliable information that we can act upon, but we have to tread extremely carefully. Where does Takashi's signal currently stand, Don?"

Donny looked back at Leonardo before addressing the rest of the room. "It _was_ traveling outside city limits, but it's falling into a much slower holding pattern. I waited until the phone was basically stationary before I tried to trace the specific coordinates I'm receiving from the digital signature.

"The phone is located inside of a building on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I did some digging on the address and found out that it's a 'ghostscraper', one of the high rises that were abandoned after the earthquake. It feels like a bold move for the Akiudo, but you have to remember that _we're _the only ones looking for them, and the only ones who know that they're here. There's no way to be certain that Takashi is carrying the phone, but I _am_ certain of where the signal is leading me."

Kelley appeared to be holding his breath. "Then we have something to rely upon, a stable signal that's not going to fail?"

"Not unless he discards the phone for some reason," Don answered.

"Can you explain the complications to me, Leonardo?" Kelley asked. "Why are you insisting that we have to continue operating independently on this mission?"

"You pose a good question, Director," Leonardo replied. "From your standpoint, I can see how it seems like a good idea to get the police or military involved. But we're not dealing with a typical set of bad guys here, and I can give you two very good reasons why we can't bring the authorities in yet: the safe house in Okinawa, and the compound they used the last time they came to the United States.

"Sayuri told you what happened when her team converged _quietly_ on the safe house. The Akiudo destroyed the place, with all of them inside. They tried to do the same thing with their compound in New York."

"That's right," Donatello agreed. "Their building was wired with enough C4 to blow up a city block, and they _tried_ to set it off. It was only with a little luck that we were able to diffuse the detonator before it could activate the rounds of C4."

"Yeah, _luck_. You had nothing to do with that failure," Leonardo said sarcastically, then gazed at Kelley. "Do you see the pattern here? When law enforcement is closing in, when the Akiudo is about to be compromised, they'll try to destroy all the evidence, even when it means leaving their own men behind."

"But if we approach them when they're not expecting it, that kind of action can be averted," Kelley pressed.

"Possibly," Leo allowed. "But there's also the chance that it could _expedite_ whatever their plans for Indian Point are. If we attack their building outright, Takashi may trigger the disaster at the Plant, especially if he doesn't think he's going to make it out. The man has never struck me as being suicidal, but the attitude he had with me on the phone…It has me concerned. I think he has a plan to retaliate against the United States for something he perceives the country did to him, and I don't think he'll let anything stop him now that he's this close."

"Not to him – to _Okinawa_," Sayuri corrected. "What else can it be? The United States' presence in the country since the last World War is viewed as an occupation by some. The perception of US Navel Base is hardly a positive one. Takashi must feel as if the country is being controlled by _two_ unwanted sources; the States, and Japan itself.

"In his mind, he fights for the freedom of Okinawa. If he was successful in pulling off an attack on your country, Japan would probably be next," she finished.

"We know that the gang has access to heavy duty chemical weapons, and the nerve to use them," Leonardo added. "The possibilities of where he could go next or who they'd try to kill are endless. We have _no_ choice except to cut him off before it has a chance to go any further."

"So let's say we do this independently," Kelley said. "What's to stop Takashi from triggering something at Indian Point the moment he realizes he's been invaded by _us_?"

The way Leonardo cleared his throat indicated his discomfort with what he was about to suggest. "We have to split up and approach both targets simultaneously. One team would take the Akiudo head on, while the other would be at Indian Point, preventing a disaster from happening there."

"That could mean suicide for whoever takes on the ghostscraper!" Kelley exclaimed.

Raphael laughed. "You ain't never been on one of our operations before. They're _all_ one part suicide. This is what we were _made_ to do, Kelley."

Leonardo nodded. "We need to get some surveillance on their building. It's unlikely that Takashi is living without power, so there may be some type of security on the premises too."

"What if there _is_?" Tim asked.

"They won't have anything fancy, not in a place like that," Donny said. "If anything, you could gain access by scaling the building itself. It shouldn't be hard to break in."

"No, but you don't know how many of them there are," Brandon said warily.

Mike shrugged. "We never do. Isn't anyone _excited_? I hate being the only one who's about to flip my shell over finding them."

The blue-masked turtle gave him a tolerant smile. "Work first, celebrate later. The sooner we sift through the logistics, the better. Takashi doesn't know we're onto his building or the Plant. The element of surprise is the best weapon in our disposal."

"How are we going to determine Team Suicide and Team Prevention?" Kat asked. "Do we get any votes?"

Leonardo gave the woman a _look_. "As far as going after the gang—"

"Don't say that right is reserved for you and your brothers, Leo. Don't say it," Katherine interrupted.

"I was _going_ to say it would probably be a lengthy topic of discussion."

Michelangelo shook his head. _Shell, I rather nobody else was in there, and I know Leo's got to feel the same way. Whether or not it'll happen is anyone's guess._

Kelley heaved a sigh. "Is this typical of how you go into an operation, with so little information and preparation?"

"Not exactly," Leo said. "But we're down our technician, and sometimes you have to take an opportunity when it presents itself, even if it resembles suicide."

"Nice to know what we're getting into," Kelley murmured.

"Hey, we've always survived suicide before." Mike grinned. "The Akiudo is about to get a shock of their own."

"You _said_ it, Mikey." Raphael chuckled. "I'm excited too; I'm just saving all of my energy for Yukiko."

Michelangelo laughed in return. "If there's time, Raphy, I'd love to watch."


	77. Open

Brandon had been sitting in the beaten down recliner for what felt like hours, but he was no closer to being ready for bed. He wasn't happy with the way the evening had turned out, but he hadn't expected to be overjoyed by any of the options.

_I knew that Kat would insist on throwing her lot in with the guys against the Akiudo. It makes sense practically speaking; she can kick some serious tail, including mine from time to time. I _know_ she can handle herself, but I still don't want her to go._

_Greg and Sayuri think they have just as much right to be there as the turtles, but Leonardo's right. The situation at Indian Point could be unpredictable, and the turtles need the others to be _there_. There's no telling how many men could be hanging around the Plant. They need a strong Prevention Team, but they need a strong front on the ghostscraper too!_

_Darn it, why does everything have to be so messed up? I need to be with the guys. That's where I belong. I fought with them twice before, only to be completely cut off this time. Nobody's going to clear me for duty, and I don't blame them. Doesn't mean I have to like it._

Brandon rested his head against the back of the chair, staring up at the ceiling. _I'd give anything to go back in time and change a few things. But wishing won't change a single thing, so what's the point?_

Raphael entered the room with a _thud_. Brandon automatically knew it was him because of the way the turtle had taken to announcing his presence so that he wouldn't startle him.

"Ain't you getting tired yet?" the red-masked turtle asked.

"No," Brandon said honestly. "Are you?"

"Not even close. Gonna have to sleep at some point though." Raphael flopped onto the end of the couch and stared at Brandon. "Are you okay, Man?"

Brandon shrugged. "I guess. It is what it is. I want to be there, but I'm not ready. I can't control what my mind does."

"That _is _important," Raphael replied. "But I wish you were gonna be there too. It sucks to lose you."

The man turned his head to focus on the turtle. "I'm not looking forward to watching you go, but this separation is nothing compared to the last one. At least you guys will be together, minus Donny…which is bad enough. But you have each other, and you have the advantage of secrecy. That's a lot better than it could have been."

"What do you mean, Bran?"

The man broke eye contact for a beat. "Do you know what scared me the most about being taken by the Akiudo?"

Raphael shook his head, not daring to say a word.

"I thought Daichi was going to use me as bait. I saw the scenarios of you four being captured a hundred different ways."

"You thought we were gonna walk into a trap?"

"Apparently Daichi wasn't smart enough to pull something like that."

The turtle shook his head again. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but then shut it.

"Do you remember anything about Stolle?" Brandon asked quietly.

"You mean…like from being kidnapped?"

"Uh huh."

"It's complicated, Bran, because my memory was in shambles. But after I got my mind back…I'd have dreams. I don't know if they were flashbacks or memories. I couldn't tell you if any of it _really_ happened."

"It doesn't seem like a memory should be this hard to face, does it? It's an event that happened in the past. What makes it so difficult to deal with?"

"It _hurts_, Brandon," Raphael said plainly. "Just 'cause it's in the past doesn't mean it's healed. Those wounds are still open, and they're stinging like fury. I think there's a lot of shame involved too. It's a humiliating thing to be taken captive, Man. I know what it's like to be at the mercy of some blockhead who couldn't beat me in a fair fight."

Brandon exhaled deeply. "I'm not as strong as you or your brothers. I never will be."

"I don't agree with you, Brandon. You ain't ever hesitated to jump into action with us, no matter how dangerous it was."

The man snorted. "The only reason I was brave is because _you_ guys were there. Do you think I could have faced the Akiudo if you weren't holding my hand?"

"Was I holding your hand when you took a bullet for me in the rainforest, Bran?"

"I've told you a thousand times, I didn't have a chance to think about it. I reacted."

"That only cements your courage further. You can be brave on purpose, but you're also that way by instinct. Daichi didn't take that from you, Man. I know it might _feel_ like he did, but the panic thing won't be this bad forever. It's gonna get better, and you're going to figure out that they really couldn't break you."

Brandon's breath quickened against his will and his shoulders hunched under the unbearable weight of the memory spinning through his mind. He braced his arms against his chest as he trembled. "I thought it was over for me," he whispered. "There was no hope, no light, nothing. Their questions were white noise. I don't remember even hearing them. All I could think was that I was never going home…never going to see any of you again. And death seemed a lot better than that."

Brandon wasn't surprised to feel Raphael's arms around him, though the turtle's strength almost took his breath away. Raphael said nothing for several seconds as the man cast what pride he had left underfoot by giving full vent to his tears.

"You _made_ it home," Raphael said finally. "You survived everything, even if you didn't want to at the time. You can't get down on yourself for that, Bran. The important thing is that you're here, and you're in one piece. Daichi and his goons already went down, and Takashi and Yukiko are next. You're safe with us, Man, and you always will be."

"Raph?" he gasped.

"Yeah?"

"I can't breathe."

"Oh. Okay." Raphael half chuckled as he let go of him. "You're gonna be all right, Bran. I know you are."

The man gave him a small smile. "Slowly but surely. Maybe by this time next year I'll pass for someone who's sane."

The turtle snickered. "That's saying you were in your right mind _before_."

"Takes one to know one," he shot back. "All this talk about 'Team Suicide', and _I'm_ the crazy one?"

Raphael gripped his shoulder. "We're coming back. You know that, right?"

"Of course you are; those idiots don't have anything on you. Now that you don't have to watch _my_ back, maybe you can take them down faster. I'd appreciate it if you still kept an eye on Kat for me though."

Raphael nodded swiftly. "Don't worry about your sister, Bran. We're not gonna let _her _out of our sight any more than we did you."

"Thanks, Raph. Kat can take them, but it's a good feeling to know that you guys are in her corner." Brandon sighed shakily. "I'm feeling nowhere near as calm about this as I'm acting, but I need one night to breathe. I'll worry about all of you tomorrow."

"No reason to start getting anxious before we've even left," Raphael agreed.

Brandon sank back into the recliner. With the release of tears had come a stronger measure of weariness, but he was too comfortable to move yet. "Are you going to miss me?" he asked impishly.

"You kidding? Who's gonna jinx us without you on board?"

"Mikey's pretty well-known for his mouth too," the man pointed out.

Raphael stretched out on the couch with his hands behind his head. "If we let _that_ floodgate open, we're all gonna drown."

Brandon heard footsteps on the stairs and looked over his shoulder to see Jazz coming down. The young woman had a towel draped around her shoulders, and damp hair fell across her face as she descended. His eyes lingered on her frame longer than they should have, but he was emboldened because she wasn't paying attention to him.

"Hey, Jazz," Raphael called out. "That _is _you in there, isn't it?"

"I'm practicing going under cover," she replied, using her fingers to smooth hair out her eyes.

"You're not going to have to worry about hiding much longer," Brandon told her. "The guys are about to neutralize the threat once and for all."

She gave him a meaningful smile. "I don't know. I think I'm probably scared enough to hide out for a good long time."

"Hm, there's an idea," Raphael said thoughtfully. "It's a good thing you've got some crazy people to entertain you."

"The craziest," she replied. "But it's not like I could fit in with normal people."

"Why would you want to?" Brandon chuckled. "It's so boring, comparatively speaking."

"I can think of a few things I'd rather do than get caught in a gunfight, but you're right. Boring they are not." Jazz stretched her arms behind her back with a grunt. "The next time Jenna invites me to come 'stretch' with her, remind me to say no."

"Aw, c'mon, Jazz," Raphael scoffed. "It'll get easier. It's a good kind of pain, isn't it?"

"Those two words don't go together," Jazz said dryly. "It's a great idea in theory, but I'm not cut out for the physical stuff."

Brandon accidentally caught himself staring again as she arched her back, but the young woman seemed unaware of his attention.

"Well, I'm beat," she said. "I'm gonna head back, boys. G'night." Jazz nodded at each of them in turn, but her smile rested on Brandon for a couple of seconds longer before she went down the hall.

Brandon glanced in Raphael's direction, and found the turtle's amber eyes focused on him. "Is there anything good on TV?" he asked.

"What do you need TV for, Bran? Looks like you've got plenty to watch around here as it is." Raphael smirked.

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you gonna make me say it, Man? Really?"

"Say _what_?"

Raphael sat up on the couch and peered down the hallway before responding. "I'm a lot of things, Brandon, but I'm not blind."

"Wait, you think I'm—"

"Crushing on Jazz? Yeah, that's what it looks like."

Brandon could feel himself changing colors. "Are you crazy? Raph, I barely _know _her. I don't fall for girls like that."

The turtle laughed. "Hey, I'm not gonna argue about you feel. I'm just telling you what I _see_."

"There hasn't been time for anything like that to develop. I'm just starting to figure out who she is."

"Then why are you still defending yourself?" Raphael asked pointedly.

"It's ridiculous, Raph. My head isn't on straight. I'm a complete mess—"

"You're not a _complete _mess, Bran. You and Jazz seem to get along pretty well, that's all I'm saying. I don't see that as a bad thing."

"I'm trying to make her feel welcome, Raph. We had a terrible first impression. I had to make things right with her, didn't I?"

"You've done that, Man," Raphael said seriously, but he was obviously holding back another laugh.

"You'd better keep your mouth shut, Raph," he said mock-threateningly. "I _don't _need an intervention, and neither does Jazz. We're friends. We don't need anyone to make up a pairing where it doesn't exist."

"Hey, I'm out of it, Brandon. We got other stuff to think about right now anyhow, y'know, like taking down the Akiudo."

Brandon nodded. _Good. Yes. Put the focus where it belongs, and _please_ don't embarrass me. _

"You realize that this isn't just going to resolve itself though, don't you?" Raphael grinned again. "What's wrong with admitting that you've got a thing for her?"

"Can you stop? Please? Haven't I been humiliated enough for one year?"

Raphael threw his head back and laughed. "Aw, Man, you're in big trouble, and you don't even know it."


	78. False Start

Leonardo impatiently looked at his watch. He'd been sitting in the back of Marc's Avalanche with his brothers for close to three hours, in anticipation of the raid on the ghostscraper. They'd intentionally left the Battleshell at home, out of concern that their firefight at the docks could have caused the van to become too recognizable. Now they'd been waiting for Takashi's signal to return to the building since sundown, to no avail.

_Maybe they're not staying here, _he had to admit to himself. _Maybe last night was a temporary thing. _Leonardo was irritated over the time that they'd wasted, and the hopes that had been dashed. He continued staring blankly out the window. _I don't think we should abandon ship without trying to find out if they've taken up residence, but it sure doesn't look like we're having any confrontations tonight._

The blue-masked turtle reached for his phone and hit Donatello's speed-dial. "I know you said you'd call me, Don, but things are deader than a doornail out here. Is there _any_ sign that Takashi may be heading this direction?"

"No, Bro, I'm sorry," Donny answered. "Takashi is still registering out in Newark. His signal hasn't budged. If I had to guess, I'd say he's settled in for the night."

"_Shell_," Leonardo replied. "What are we supposed to do? Move the entire raid? What could he be doing in New Jersey?"

"Meeting someone?" Don suggested. "I don't know, Leo; your guess is as good as mine."

"Well…I'm not leaving here empty-handed," Leo proclaimed.

"Are you still considering checking around inside?"

"I figured we might be able to tell if they're coming back or not."

"You know what's at stake here," Donny said quietly.

"We'll be careful. I'm not interested in blowing our cover," Leo said pointedly. "I'm going to talk to the guys first, but we're probably getting ready to move."

"Okay. I'm going to check with Greg again," Don told him. "Let me know what's up."

"I will; bye." Leonardo hung up the phone with a sigh, and looked over at Raphael and Michelangelo.

"What's the deal, Fearless? That didn't sound encouraging," Raphael remarked.

"It wasn't. The digital signature that Don's tracking is hanging out in Newark. Donny says it doesn't look like he's moving any time soon. There's a good chance that he's staying there for the night."

Raphael cursed and pounded his fist against the back of the seat. "Can't we just follow him out there, Leo? If we pick up the Battleshell, and we've got plenty of missiles to finish the job."

"In the middle of downtown Newark?" Leonardo didn't even _try_ to sound patient. "You know we can't do that, not with the threat to civilians and property. We have to get the Akiudo when they're together, and alone. There's no other option for dispatching them. We can't do this tonight."

"Dude, that sucks," Mike complained. "I was looking forward to sleeping _good_ after this was done."

"We all were, Mikey," Leonardo said, and turned his gaze back up the block to the building in question. "But this trip doesn't have to be completely wasted. I think we should get a closer look and find out if they use this place as a headquarters, or if they were only here temporarily."

"Do we get to bust any heads if we find some?" Raphael asked hopefully.

"_No_, no busting," Leo said firmly. "We have to remain invisible. They can't know that we were ever here, because then they'll figure out that we're on to them. We need their false sense of security to remain intact."

"So you wanna roll right up to their place, have a look around, and leave like we were never there?" Raphael clarified.

"Yep." Leonardo nodded. "That's the goal anyway. I'm going to let Doc know that our plans have changed." He dialed Luke, and waited for the man to pick up.

"Anything yet, Leo?" Luke asked.

"No, Doc, that's why I'm calling. Suicide has been canceled for tonight, because the main event doesn't look like he's going to show up."

"Great...we get to come back and do this again tomorrow?"

"We're going to investigate so we can decide on that."

"Investigate the building? Is that necessary? You don't know for certain that it's empty."

"We _don't _know if this arrangement was short-term or longer. That's why we need to go in," Leo replied. "I don't want to come back here without a good reason. We know what we're doing, Doc."

"What if someone sees you?"

"We'll handle this," the turtle said stubbornly. "Don't forget who we are."

"What I'm recalling at the moment is our tendency to get into trouble where this stupid gang is concerned."

"Doc, we have to find out some things for sure. This could even help us be better prepared for the next time around."

"Obviously you're going to do what you have to do. Be careful, huh? We're already down one 'Shitenno'," Luke said sarcastically.

"I hear you. I'll call you back." Leonardo barely hung up the phone before his red-masked brother spoke up.

"What's the plan, Leo?" Raph asked knowingly.

"We're going to get a quiet look around, and I do mean _quiet_."

"Meaning, it's not fun time yet, Raphy," Mike translated.

"I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here to tell me." Raphael shot the younger turtle an irritated look. "What about Kat?"

"I didn't say anything to Doc about her," Leonardo answered. "I figured that she could stay put since—"

Before Leo could finish, there was a coded knock on the back door. Michelangelo reached to unlock it.

"Are we going?"

Leonardo heard Katherine's voice, although he couldn't see the woman.

"It's asking too much for you to stay here, isn't it?" Leo asked.

Her head ducked inside the Avalanche. "Yes, it is. I'm on the inside _with_ you guys on this one." Kat's shoulder-length bronze hair was pulled back from her face in a tight ponytail, and her dark clothing helped her to blend in with the surroundings.

Leonardo rolled his eyes as he jerked a ball-cap off the seat and adjusted it on his head. He didn't feel like being burdened with clothing, but it seemed more necessary than ever now that the ambush had turned into espionage.

This was _not_ how he'd planned to spend the evening. Leo was dearly disappointed to be gathering intelligence instead of starting the fight that would end everything, but there was no point in moaning about it.

He fixed his brothers with a look before jumping out of the back. "This is extremely important; like, I'm not even capable of stressing how vital it is. We _have_ to maintain our cover. No unnecessary noise and no fooling around. There's nothing funny about any of this. It's strictly business."

Mike faced him head-on with what had to be the most serious expression he could muster. "We got it, Leo; no messing around."

"_Now_ can we go out to play?" Raphael demanded.

At Leonardo's dark glance, the red-masked turtle shrugged. "We'll keep it together for you, Bro. Satisfied?"

"I'll be satisfied if we can get through this like the professionals that we are."

"We're right behind you, Leo," Raphael replied.

Leonardo hopped out onto the street and scanned his immediate surroundings. There was little sign of life on the city block. It was one of the areas that had seen worse devastation from the earthquake, and it still looked uninhabited. _If we _were_ forced to set off missiles here, it might not be so bad._

It was quiet, but the silence gave him no indication of peace. It felt foreboding, like the calm before a mighty storm was about to be unleashed.

The right edge of the road had several street lights out, so Leonardo chose to stay in the semi-darkness on that side of the street until they got closer to the building. He hesitated in the shadows, staring at the ghostscraper as if it could be a giant death trap. _They don't know we're around, _he reasoned.

Leonardo could make out at least one steady light that communicated someone's presence. Most of the upper windows of the building were so dark, he imagined they'd probably been blackened out intentionally. The single glimmering light in the night was the only warning he needed that they weren't alone.

"It looks like we have company. We go in silent, and remain invisible," he reminded everyone.

The blue-masked turtle didn't approach the front. It felt too obvious. He went around the side instead, searching for a loose window on the damaged facing. Leo scaled over the first floor of the building, using the built-in handgrips that were provided by the architecture of the structure.

He stepped onto a ledge on the second level, and began feeling around the first set of windows in front of him. One of the pair shifted easily under his grip, and he peered into the darkened interior for a moment before venturing inside. Leonardo drew his flashlight from his belt. _Don's usually the one who has to be prepared to help all of us. With him removed from the equation, we'd better _all_ be prepared._

Leonardo looked into the hallway while he heard the others entering the room. He listened closely before edging out into the hall. _They probably wouldn't hang out very much on the lower levels, _he told himself. _If they stayed on the higher floors, they'd have a better chance of escaping the building across the rooftops in the case that they were discovered._

He felt his muscles tensing as they worked their way through the middle of the building, looking for stairs that would lead them to another level. Leo wasn't concerned about being caught by any of the insignificant men that Takashi could have left behind, but he was constantly aware of the possibility of destroying the element of surprise.

Darkness prevailed over the entire floor. He sensed Katherine directly behind him, and he glanced back to see her. The woman appeared completely composed, as if she'd done this kind of thing with them hundreds of times.

No one spoke, even when Leonardo located an exit door to a stairwell. He mentally kept track of how many flights they were ascending, only pausing in his stride when he saw a shaft of light in the distance. Leonardo looked back at the others to point it out, and then kept climbing. As he got closer, the illumination turned out to be a single light-bulb standing over a doorway.

"If we're looking for signs of life, I think we just found one," Raphael commented.

Slowly, Leonardo inched the exit door open. The overhead lighting in the connecting hallway was faint, and he could hear the sound of a radio a few doors down. His heart rate quickened, and he took a deep breath to steady himself.

"Kat, come with me," he whispered, then looked at his brothers. "You two stay here; keep watch on those stairs for a minute. We're going to make this quick."

Leonardo was relieved when Raphael didn't complain about being left behind. Kat stayed close to his shell as he set foot onto what he calculated was the 12th floor. _If there's anyone around, it won't take much for them to catch us here. _

He took deliberately silent steps, inching along the wall as he approached the doorway from which the sound was coming. He crouched close to the ground behind the open door as he peeked carefully around it.

The room was dim, with nothing more than a lamp on the far side that hardly lit the space. Leonardo swiftly counted several bed-rolls, which were mostly occupied with sleeping men. In the lighted corner, he noticed two men sitting up by the window, sharing a cigarette between the two of them.

_Seen enough. _Leonardo backed away from the door and nodded at Katherine. "Company," he whispered. "Mostly asleep, but there are at least two awake. This one has room for a couple dozen people, and there's no telling how many more spaces like this exist in the building."

"Do you want to keep looking for them?" Kat asked softly.

Leonardo considered the prospect of carrying out a little more research, right as a swift motion behind him drew his attention. Two shadows were hurrying in their direction. He knew it was his brothers, but he couldn't tell anything was wrong until he saw Raphael emphatically motioning for them to move.

"Is someone coming?" Leonardo hissed.

Raphael refrained from a smart response. "Yeah, Fearless, we gotta go!"


	79. Escape

Raphael _hated_ running from a few Akiudo that they could have dealt with in their sleep, but he wasn't about to disobey Leonardo's orders either. His oldest brother was moving as quickly as he could in the lead without making a sound, and Katherine was keeping up easily, to the red-masked turtle's relief. _She's probably less of a liability to have around than Greg or Brandon is. We've been hauling around the wrong accomplices, _he thought ironically.

He saw Leonardo rapidly testing doorknobs, no doubt trying to find some place where they could hide until it was clear. So far, nothing had opened. _Shell, they can't _all_ be locked up tight! Those scum are gonna come through that exit door any second! Why they ain't here already?_

Raphael actually _knew_ the answer to the question. The men were taking their time up the flights of stairs, completely relaxed and not expecting an attack. _Now would be a better time to take 'em down than ever, but no! The big man and his chief witch are nowhere to be found, so we have to—_

His thought immediately cut off as he watched Leonardo swing a door open. The oldest turtle looked inside swiftly, before waving for everyone to follow him. Raphael gave Mike a small push to get him moving again, and pressed into the interior behind him.

The room was faintly illuminated by the light coming in from the window on the opposite wall. By the time Raphael was taking in the sight of the bathroom stalls and curtained partitions, Leonardo was already working on the window.

"Is it big enough?" he heard Katherine hiss. "Leo, you've got to figure it out quick!"

Leonardo shifted carefully, twisting his frame to see if it would fit through the window. "We can do it," he affirmed. "We've fought our way through tighter spaces," he directed toward Raphael meaningfully.

"That's great, Fearless, _now_ can we get outta here? Do you see a way down?" the red-masked turtle asked.

"There's a ledge right outside the window, and another a few feet below it. It looks like the architecture will allow us to scale straight down, but…" Leonardo trailed off, looking at Katherine.

"I'm light on my feet for an old married woman," she said sarcastically.

"We don't have a choice," Leonardo agreed. "We'll take it slowly, unless disaster strikes. I'm going out on the ledge, and I want you to follow me, Kat. I'm not trying to baby you; I've just never seen you operate in this capacity before."

"That's about to change," she retorted.

"Kat, seriously," Michelangelo whispered. "Don't go showing off just on our account. Do what Leo says, and save your best moves for a stable environment."

"You guys are _so _overprotective," she scoffed.

"That's what we do best," Leo returned. "Now c'mon. We need to move."

The blue-masked turtle disappeared around the outside edge of the window pane, and Katherine easily slipped out behind him. Raphael started toward the window to track their progress, but the sound of raucous voices stopped him in his tracks. _Shell, they're _way_ too close for comfort._

"Mikey, they're right out there," he warned softly.

The orange-masked turtle stood still beside him, his chest heaving slightly. Raphael cocked his head as he listened closely, and detected footsteps outside the door. He swore under his breath as he gave his youngest brother another push. "Hide – _fast_!"

Raphael launched into the last stall on the right side, seconds before he heard the bathroom door swinging open. He held his breath as the overhead light flashed on, and balanced on the back of the toilet so that no one would see his feet from below. _Please don't come down here and make me bust you up. Leo would kill me._

"_Why don't you understand why it makes me nervous? If something goes wrong with the Shitenno, you must realize that we are as good as dead,_" he heard someone say.

_Something's gonna go wrong with the Shitenno all right, _Raphael thought silently. _I'd take you apart right now if I was allowed to._

"_Takashi-sama is ready for them. He has made proper preparations this time," _a second voice returned.

_He _has_, has he? Keep talking, you idiot._

"_This time,_" the first stated bitterly. "_If he was capable of containing them, he would have done it before! I say kill them, and let that be the end of it. I don't want to be within range when the technicians are finished. Maybe _you _would not mind dying for Takashi—_"

"_We are not going to die, _Maiko,_ and we will not be within six hundred miles of here when the job is done. Everything Takashi-sama is doing is by design, even the meeting tonight."_

"_You speak as if you know so much," _Maiko replied. "_But you don't know what he's doing any more than the rest of us!"_

"_I know that it has to be related to our exit from this stinking region._"

"_What makes you say that?_"

"_Common sense, fool! Do you think Takashi-sama is acting randomly? I tell you, he has planned things thoroughly, down to the scientists that are aiding us. He has been courting those three from North Korea for years!_"

"_What do you know about it?_" Maiko demanded.

"_They like to talk,_" the second said triumphantly. "_They are proud of what they are going to accomplish here. The challenge is almost incentive enough for them without the compensation._"

"_How much do you think he's paying them?_"

The other man laughed. "_More than you or I are worth, and don't forget it. Just be glad that we have plane tickets out of here._"

"_What about plane tickets?_"

"_What does Takashi-sama always say to us? Allow him to take care of the details. There is nothing to worry about, my friend. Our leader did not orchestrate his way out of prison only to come to the United States to die. We will be _long _gone before anything is triggered_."

_Don't like the sound of that, _Raphael thought grimly.

"_Provided that everything goes according to his plans!_" Maiko saidnervously.

"_There is no reason for it not to._"

"_I can think of a few reasons, and they are repetitive. They are the same obstacles we ran into in the past! Why does Takashi-sama think it will be different this time?_"

"_You would have to ask _him_ that. Go ahead and approach him when he gets back._" The second man snickered.

"_I'm glad it is funny to you. Our lives hang in the balance!_"

"_Why are you so fearful, Maiko? Even in death there is honor, if you die for the right reasons._"

"_I would rather not die for _any_ reason!_"

"_Then don't allow Yukiko to hear a single word you have breathed. She will make an example of you; mark my words. She is probably timing how long we have been inside here as I speak._"

"_She does not really do that, does she?_"

"_No; she does _worse_. I hope you got all the whining out, because you don't want Yukiko to get an opportunity to know of it._"

Something struck the side of the bathroom stalls so hard that the entire set shook, and Raphael winced.

"_This is not what I signed up for!"_

"_It will get better, Maiko. Takashi-sama's dealings with the United States are short-lived. When we go home, things are going to be different. This is the chance we have been waiting for, to finally be free_."

"_Free? We are practically prisoners inside this building, unless Takashi or Yukiko escorts us out!_"

"_This is temporary, and mind how you describe their treatment! You may just end up as a prisoner, Maiko!_"

"_You are not going to tell them, are you? You would not repeat what I have said?_" The first man sounded a little desperate suddenly.

"_No, Maiko, I will not turn you in. I am only warning you that not everyone is as kind as I…"_

Raphael heard the sound of their voices retreating, and the wind of the large door swinging as they entered the hall. He remained motionless under the stark overhead lighting for several more seconds.

"Raphy!" Mike called quietly. "We've gotta go."

The red-masked turtle climbed down carefully and met his brother outside the stall. Raphael eyed the door to the hall, and motioned Mike toward the window. "Move – I'm right behind ya."

Michelangelo squirmed his way through the opening and Raphael watched for him to make room on the ledge for him to escape too. He rolled his eyes as he scraped against the window frame in his own attempt to fit through. _Easy does it, _he chided himself.

Raphael didn't take another breath until he wedged his shell through the space, and he emerged onto the ledge. He didn't see Mike, but a low whistle called him to look down. Then he caught sight of a shadow nimbly descending, and decided to get himself in gear too.

Raphael moved away from the window, avoiding as many of the panes as possible as he worked his way down to the ground using one ledge and one foothold at a time. He heard a soft scuff from Michelangelo every now and then, but saw nothing of Leonardo or Katherine on the ground.

_I hope that's a good thing._

His muscles were still tingling with anxious energy as he landed on his feet beside the building. Raphael found Mike backed up against the stone facing, waiting for him.

"Hey, have you seen—" Raphael started to ask, right before the beam of a flashlight shot around the corner.

"_C'mon_, you guys!" Leo insisted quietly. "We have to get away from here."

Raphael shook his head. _Brother, you're telling me._

* * *

><p>Luke sounded like he was almost beside himself. "<em>What<em> was the point of nearly getting yourselves caught in there?"

"We coulda taken them," Raphael stated defensively.

Leonardo shot him a sharp look, but it quickly softened. "We had our reasons for going, Doc, and we found what we were looking for. There's plenty of evidence that the Akiudo is using this building as a hub. It might seem abandoned from some angles, but it definitely isn't. They're even paying somebody off for electricity and water."

"As if Takashi would live any other way." Katherine rolled her eyes.

"That ain't all we found out, Fearless," Raphael reminded him. "They're planning something, and they think they're gonna be ready for us. This smells like a trap; I'd bet my shell on it."

The blue-masked turtle nodded. "But they can't get us to show up anywhere without contacting Greg again first. We're going to have to play this by ear a little bit."

"Leo, we can't play their game!" Raphael protested.

"That isn't what I'm suggesting," Leo said calmly. "But we _still _have to know what they want us to do, so that we know how much time we have to cut them off." There was a troubled look in his brother's eyes that belied his even tone. "It sounds like they have big plans for the Plant, what with their talk of technicians. I don't like it. North Korea has to be significant, and we're only learning this _now_?"

Raphael shrugged. "We're not _really_ supernatural, Leo. They got all kinds of secrets we don't know nothing about."

"They're planning something big." Mike's voice sounded hollow. "They don't wanna be anywhere near here when it goes off. Leo, it sounded like a lot of people could be in trouble."

Leonardo took a sharp breath. "Then we have to stop them, period."

"I think we should get out of this neighborhood," Luke mentioned.

"Get back in the Volvo, and we'll follow you," Leo told him.

Raphael could tell his older brother's mind was reeling with possibilities and strategies. He didn't say anything to Leonardo as he crawled over into the driver's seat of Marc's Avalanche and started the car. Part of him wanted to discuss with Leo just how badly they were going to kick the Akiudo's tail, but the seriousness in his countenance made Raphael refrain. _Better to let him be for a little while, let him figure some things out._

Michelangelo was quiet too, but Raphael knew from experience that his youngest brother probably felt more like talking.

"You all right, Mikey?" he asked to get the ball rolling.

"I feel like we just looked inside Pandora's box and got this tiny glimpse of all the evil that's about to be unleashed," Mike replied.

"No it ain't, Bro," Raphael returned firmly. "It's not gonna happen, because we're going to stop it. We were in the right place to hear some stuff tonight, and maybe get an advantage that we wouldn't have had otherwise. The city's not going down without a fight, Mike. Not while _we're_ breathing."

"They don't even know it," Mike said sadly. "The people are going about their regular business, thinking everything is normal…and they don't realize the need to duck and cover."

"We don't always get to know this far in advance before disaster strikes," Raphael replied. "This time we can _do_ something about it. We're not gonna sit back and wait for the count-down to start."

"No, we're not," Leonardo said. "We _will _catch this thing before it goes too far, no matter what it costs us. At least that's how I feel about it."

Raphael glanced at Leonardo in the rear-view mirror and nodded. "Whatever it takes," he murmured. "We've said it to each other how many times? Now we're getting to say it for a few million lives."

Mike chuckled, seeming to brighten somewhat. "The Watchmen are gonna be busy, that's for sure."

"The what?" Raphael looked at his orange-masked brother.

"Watchmen," he repeated. "You know, 'cause the Phantom thing was so ten years ago."

"You _changed_ our persona without telling anyone? Can he do that, Fearless?"

Leonardo heaved a breath. "Whether it's by the Watchmen or the Phantoms, the Akiudo are finished."


	80. Scars

Jazz peered inside the dojo curiously, and couldn't help staring at the sight of Brandon wielding what looked like two short staffs. His face was wrought with concentration, but she could see that some frustration was also building by the way he carried his shoulders. Watching his exercise was both exciting and daunting.

_I always figured the guy could take care of himself in the physical department, but he looks _intense_. Those turtles are absolutely lethal, and I wouldn't put him that far behind them. If Brnadon lost control, he could hurt someone really badly._

She shook her head, silencing the thought even as it crossed her mind. _There's no reason to think something like that. Not everyone deals with the PTSD the same way. Just because he might have similar symptoms to my brother doesn't mean he'll react in kind. _

_Brandon is coming closer to dealing with his demons than my brother ever did. Of course, if James had received the proper support, who knows what could have happened? If my father had been more concerned with helping him and less determined to _contain_ him, maybe things would have been different._

Jazz allowed silence to prevail in her mind for a couple of seconds, leaning against the doorframe. _It's not my father's fault either though. He tried to help James at first too. My dad could lead hundreds of men in the most complex battle plan. He just didn't know what to do with his broken-down son. In other words, my dad was in the same clueless boat as the rest of us, except that he was _truly_ unprepared to deal with the emotional crap._

"Jazz?"

The young woman blinked, and realized that Brandon was gazing at her.

"Were you waiting on me?" he asked.

"Yeah." She recovered quickly. "The others are on their way back. Jen asked me to let you know, and then I got…distracted."

Brandon gave her an easy smile. "I don't put on much of a show. It's more interesting to watch the guys."

Jazz folded her arms with a smirk. "Are you telling me you've _never_ used any of your moves to get a girl?" she teased. She could see the small blush her challenge had elicited, and bit her lip to prevent herself from chuckling.

"Maybe when I was a young, stupid kid, but I haven't done anything like that in years."

His shy smile faded back into a clouded countenance that made Jazz sad to see.

"I wasn't trying to embarrass you," she said softly.

"No, this isn't about you," he said. "I'm just down in general. I can't stand being sidelined at a time like this."

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't think anything happened up there," she offered.

"It's _going_ to though," he said wistfully. "I was there with them the last two times, even when I didn't know what I was doing. It feels like I lost my job."

Jazz shifted from one foot to the other as she considered her response. "You're still valuable to them," she said finally.

"Oh, I know." He blew out an irritated breath. "It's hard to explain how this feels. Even though they're walking into a situation that could spell certain death, I'd rather be doing it _with _them than waiting on them to come home. We were a team."

"You still are," she tried to encourage him.

Brandon clutched both of his staffs in one fist. "Yeah," he murmured, as if he didn't know what else to say. "So they've got some more time to stew before they get to see action."

The young woman shrugged. "Don said the head guy never showed up at the building."

The man wiped away sweat that was sliding down his forehead and then fidgeted with his damp t-shirt. Jazz felt like he wanted to remove it altogether, but Brandon hesitated.

"I wouldn't mind giving you some privacy," she suggested.

He stared back at her steadily instead of answering, and took a step backwards to sit down on the wooden bench. Jazz wasn't sure what the move meant, but it didn't look like he was kicking her out. The man stared down at the mat for another beat of silence, and then his golden brown eyes flicked up to meet hers.

"They're just scars," he said faintly. "Sometimes I don't know why they bother me so much."

"I think…it might be because you see them as disfiguring," Jazz said slowly. "I've seen a lot of war wounds, Brandon…and people tend to have different opinions about them. I guess it's easy to see them as a negative reminder of the awful things that you've been through, but I try not to think about them that way."

"What would you call them?"

"To me, scars are the sign that you're still living. Sure, it hurts to get them, but they also mean you're a survivor. You got through it, and you lived to tell about it. You can look at them like they're the proof that you almost died, or the symbol that you were tough enough to make it."

The man's shoulders slumped. "I don't feel tough, Jazz. In my mind, I'm still lying on the floor in a thousand pieces."

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit," she told him. "I mean…I may not have known you before any of this junk happened, but I see strength inside you, Brandon. It was clear as day when you were playing with those sticks."

Brandon snorted. "They're called _Bahng Mahng Ee_. It's a Taekwondo thing."

"Not Ninjutsu?"

"No, that's how the turtles were raised. My older sister and I got into Taekwondo as teenagers, and both of us kept up with it. My style has been impacted by the way I mix it up with the guys in training and sparring, but I'll never be exactly like them."

"I think you're more like them than you realize."

He shook his head. "Jazz, _nobody_ is like them. Sometimes just being in the same room as the turtles still feels like breathing rarified air."

"They've got a pretty high opinion of you, Brandon."

Brandon leaned against the wall with a sigh. "They have a way of bringing out the best in you, and believing in you even when you can't believe in yourself."

"That _is _a unique gift," she acknowledged. "A lot of people like to form opinions first and ask questions later."

"The guys don't have the luxury of being able to give people the benefit of the doubt, but when it comes to seeing through somebody, straight to the heart of a matter…_That's_ their specialty."

Jazz laughed. "Reminds me of my first meeting with Donny. It'd be kind of nice to have that type of intuitive feeling over people, don't you think? To be able to look them straight in the eyes, and know without any doubt that they'd never do anything to hurt you." She held Brandon's gaze until she felt awkward and forced herself to turn away. "Most of us will never come close to reading people that well."

"I'm a firm believer in taking a second look," Brandon replied. "First impressions aren't always correct, as both of us know very well." He laughed shortly. "I think that everyone deserves another chance."

She nodded. "We all screw up. If we didn't give people another shot, we'd have a world full of punks who never talk to each other."

He chuckled. "That would be one lonely planet."

Jazz leaned forward, resting her arm across her knees. "I haven't practiced the art very much," she admitted. "I was burned badly by people I thought I could trust. I'd come to feel like it wasn't worth the risk to rely on anyone, particularly with the chance of rejection factored in."

"You expect them to push you away before they get the chance to know you," he filled in.

"If they _had_ the chance to get to know me, I'd only let them down anyway. It can be utterly exhausting to disappoint everyone you know."

"You family has to factor into this. It can't have been easy to deal with your parents leaving you to fend for yourself."

Jazz didn't expect an emotional reaction, and she wasn't prepared to restrain it. She'd cauterized the old wounds so many times, she hadn't thought she was capable of feeling such acute regret over the relationships. She clenched her jaw tightly as she focused on blinking back tears.

"It's okay to say that they hurt you," Brandon continued. "No one is invincible to being injured, even when you try to tell yourself that it's in the past, and it doesn't matter. It can still have power over your life. I ought to know."

Jazz looked at him, grateful for the momentary distraction from her own past. "What do you mean?"

"I have a terrible father," he explained. "He was abusive to my mom when I was growing up, but she lived with it. When he turned his fists on Kat and me, she ended up kicking him to the curb."

She grimaced. "I'm sorry. You've never had a relationship with him?"

Brandon shook his head. "No. That was the last I heard of him for several years. My dad didn't pop back up on our grid again until my mom died…and then he set his sights on Karina."

"Your younger sister?"

"Right. He preyed upon her desire to fill the empty place that his departure left in her life, and he took advantage of her. My mom had a Dance Studio. It was her life's work, and she spent all the effort she had inside her to keep the doors open.

"Kari was the one who followed in her footsteps, both in dancing and teaching. She took charge of the Studio after my mom passed, but there were a lot of problems. There were property tax issues, and many things were in disrepair.

"My dad swooped in like a superhero to save Karina's day, but he was only out to screw her over. Under the guise of helping fix tax issues and taking charge of paperwork, he transferred the property into his own name, and sold it right out from underneath her. Then he disappeared back into hiding."

"My God." Jazz couldn't think of any other appropriate words. "I'm sorry. I didn't know about any of that."

"I buried my anger and hurt over him so that I wouldn't have to deal with it, but it still came back to bite me. Don't be like me, Jazz. It's a waste of time."

A couple of tears escaped before she could stop them. "This is why I don't want to get near people. It's not until you get close to someone that they have the _real_ power to destroy you. When some stranger hurts you, you might get mad, but you can brush it off. When it's someone you care about, it's not that simple."

Brandon exhaled softly. "It's not much of a life though, is it? Talk about a lonely planet. Human beings weren't designed to live in a bubble, Jazz. You can save yourself some pain in the short-term, but the life you end up leading is…empty." He winced as he said the last word. "I'm sorry," he said swiftly. "I'm not trying to judge you."

"No; you're right," she replied. "A week doesn't go by that I don't feel the weight of my isolation. But I thought it was worth it to protect myself, at least…" Jazz faltered, bracing her arm on the bench next to his. "I think I fooled myself into being satisfied, until I came here. Now everything is upside-down, and I don't know _what_ I'm supposed to do."

"Nobody wants you leave, Jazz," he reassured her.

"I know they wouldn't say that outright—"

He surprised her by laughing. "Don't you feel it?"

"Feel what?"

"That magical sense of _belonging_ somewhere. You don't have to be born into this clan to be a family member, Jazz."

"I've barely been around them long enough to know the difference."

"If you've lasted _this_ long, it's a pretty good indicator that it's meant to be."

The young woman sniffed. "I'm still kind of afraid to accept it. I'm waiting to wake up to my own reality, and be so disappointed that I can't breathe."

His hand covered hers briefly. "There will come a point when this family feels like the one true reality, and all the crap on the surface fades into the background. It's an unusual way to live, and the guys tend to feel like they're holding us back. It makes me wanna laugh. They don't seem to be able to grasp how much fuller our lives are from knowing them than they could ever be otherwise."

Brandon removed his hand from hers, and she felt goose bumps run up the length of her arm. She was too distracted by the sensation to respond immediately, and when she did open her mouth she felt a little tongue-tied.

"Do you guys have to vote?" she asked weakly. "Or is there some unspoken rule about a certain length of time spent in their home guaranteeing automatic induction into the family?"

Brandon grinned. "If they didn't want you around, you'd know it."

"Does that go for all of you, or are some of you better at hiding your distaste for girls who are on the freakish side?"

"Do any of us seem normal to you, Jazz? Your everyday life was more typical than ours."

"True enough. Maybe I'm _just_ freaky enough to blend in down here."

He nodded. "Definitely."

"You realize you just _called _me freaky, don't you?" she said impishly.

"It's the unifying factor among all of us," he said tongue-in-cheek, tapping her across the shoulder.

Jazz smiled, though she still felt like she was shaking off goose bumps. _This is getting harder to contain._


	81. Take Two

Leonardo had such a difficult time sleeping that he almost went after one of the docs to _give_ him something to help him rest. _We were so close. Why couldn't Takashi have just been there? It feels like our luck was against us tonight. _He rolled over to face the wall, so he wouldn't have to gaze at the empty space in the bed next to him.

_At least we didn't get caught inside their building, and we know they're not planning on playing nicely. Not that I expected them to. This is insane. I'd rather be sitting out there at Indian Point than lying in this bed. What does North Korea have to do with the Akiudo? _The blue-masked turtle closed his eyes with a groan. _There's nothing more we can accomplish tonight. I have to get some sleep so that I'll be _worth_ something tomorrow. I just wish I knew what Takashi has up his sleeve. The very idea that he's scheming while we're resting is disturbing._

A knock at the door made Leonardo sit up in a flash. Greg stuck his head in the room before he even answered him. The man stiffly advanced inside with his cell phone.

"Takashi," Greg said softly.

Leonardo took a deep breath to steady his immediate reaction to the man's name, and wordlessly accepted the phone from Greg. "What do you want?" he asked Takashi flatly.

"It is a very sad thing to me that we have been here for weeks, and our paths have yet to cross," the man returned. "I expected to receive a better welcome than that."

"You're _not_ welcome," Leo retorted. "Am I supposed to be happy to see you?"

"I just think that there is no sense in avoiding each other. There are things to say between us, and I believe it would be better done in person. Do you refuse to meet me?"

"This is the first time you mentioned wanting to," Leonardo said as evenly as possible.

"I didn't have to invite you _before_," Takashi said pointedly.

"You name the place, Takashi, and my brothers and I will be there."

"I hoped you would agree to it. I am anxious to catch up with the four of you."

"It seems like you're _more_ anxious to hurt innocent people."

Takashi chuckled, a sound Leonardo abhorred. "No one else has to be hurt, Leonardo. I only wanted to demonstrate how serious I am. If you are willing to come and reason with me, I have no purpose in harming others."

_I have to make him think we're playing along_, Leonardo said to himself. "Whatever it takes to get you out of our city, and out of our lives."

"How do you feel about New Jersey?"

Leonardo took an inward breath. "What about it, Takashi? Tell me what you want us to do."

"I'm going to be in Newark tomorrow night, on the north side of Military Park. There is a sizeable monument that's impossible to miss. Will you and your brothers come?"

"If you're really interested in being _reasonable_, nothing could keep us away. What time?" Leonardo rolled his eyes as he attempted to sound earnest. Right. _As if I can trust him any farther than I could throw him._

"1:30AM. I will be very disappointed if you don't come, Leonardo. It would not bode well for your city."

"We'll _be_ there, Takashi," Leonardo snapped. "But the assault rifles had better stay at home!"

"Those weapons were never meant for _you_, Leonardo. In all our history together, when have I tried to kill you?"

"You _tried_ to kill both Michelangelo and me at our last meeting!"

"That could not be considered a serious attempt, Leonardo. If I wanted you to die, I would have commanded the men to open fire on you. But they didn't, did they?"

"I want you to leave this country peacefully, and whatever that takes, I'll do it. We'll be there at the right time, Takashi."

"I am pleased to hear that you wish to cooperate with me. There could be hope for you yet, Leonardo."

The turtle clenched his teeth angrily, but said nothing to give away the information that they already had on their headquarters. "Tomorrow night, Military Park."

"1:30," Takashi reminded him.

"We'll be there." Leonardo hung up the phone before the man could say another word, and looked over at Greg. "He's putting himself into position to make a quick get-away. We _have_ to accost the gang before we're supposed to be at the rendezvous point."

Leonardo got to his feet and handed the phone back to his friend. He strode out of the room, heading immediately for the Lab with Greg trailing behind him. The blue-masked turtle wasn't surprised to find Donatello sitting up with his laptop.

"What's going on, Don?" Leo asked. "Do you have any movement on Takashi?"

"His signal is heading on a course that will likely put him back on the Upper West Side, but it's not moving quickly."

Leonardo looked at his watch to check the time, and saw that it was pushing 5:00am. He shook his head. "We're going to have to make an early evening of it; move on the Akiudo before they leave the ghostscraper tomorrow night."

"Did Takashi deliver instructions?" Donatello asked.

"He wants to meet us out in Newark, Military Park at 1:30 in the morning."

"That's not suspicious or anything," Don said sarcastically.

"I told him we'd be there. He has to believe that we're cooperating with him and honoring the agreement."

"Honor has nothing to do with it," Donny said darkly. "Leo, blow up that entire building if you have to, send them all skyward. Don't let them get the chance to kill any more civilians."

"I won't, Don, I promise. We're going to handle them without gloves. They've become too great of a threat to do this any other way_. You're_ going to need to sleep at some point though. Have you talked to anyone else about watching the feed?"

Donatello nodded meekly. "Yes, I have. It's going to be running continuously for the next several hours leading up to the finale, Bro."

"As long as you're not the _only_ one observing it."

"No, we'll create a schedule."

"Good. We all need to get some more rest before the insanity hits." Leonardo looked at Greg, and saw the man rub his forehead tiredly.

"I'm going to sleep with my phone, just in case Takashi calls back."

Leonardo watched his friend leave, and turned around to find Donatello staring at him.

"I'm sure this goes without saying, but don't take anything for granted, Leo. They've used chemicals against us before, and the stuff that Raph and Mike overheard has me freaking out a little."

"I'm worried about that too," Leo replied. "But if we catch them unaware, they might not have time to mount that kind of offensive."

Don sighed. "You can handle it, just like the other times. I know you'll pull it off, Leo."

"I wish you were coming with us," he admitted.

"Yeah, well…beat their tails for me, or _whatever_ you need to do," Donatello said meaningfully. "You're going to stay together, right?"

Leonardo nodded. "We won't separate on our own with the Akiudo. I don't know how 'Team Prevention' intends to spread out. Indian Point is large facility, and there's a lot of ground to cover. I wish we had surveillance on them."

Donatello held up his hands helplessly. "Without the power on at Indian Point, there's no reason to even try to hack their interface. The monitoring system isn't operating."

"Takashi knows what he's doing," Leo muttered.

"Not completely," Donny countered. "He doesn't know that we're tracking him, or that we're on to Indian Point. We have an advantage…you just have to use it accordingly."

"We're going to do our best, Donny; I give you my word on that."

"Try and make it back in one piece. We're already paying the docs overtime as it is," his brother said wryly.

* * *

><p>The tension in the atmosphere of the Den was thick, even worse than it had been the day before. Leonardo had felt prepared as they moved toward their original assault, but the previous night's events had left him uncertain. He wanted to pace, but he forced himself to sit calmly in one place, in the hopes that he could convey the sensation to everyone else around him.<p>

The room had been quiet for some time; there was nothing left to do except wait for the appointed hour after sunset to arrive so that they could leave. Leonardo cast a glance over at Greg and Sayuri on the couch, and then turned to include Kelley and Tim.

"I know I don't need to tell you to watch each other's backs. It's anyone's guess how many Akiudo could be present at the Plant. It may not be necessary for them to be there to initiate anything, but past experience tells us Takashi will have men on the premises to make certain the plan goes off properly."

"A suicidal volunteer?" Kelley suggested.

"In all likelihood, you'll be facing a _few_ of them. You're going to try and stay together?" Leonardo verified.

"That's the goal," Greg replied. "But like we've said all along, no one knows what we're getting into."

"All the more reason not to lose track of each other," Raphael insisted from behind the couch. "You're taking extra ammo in case you need it, right?"

Greg nodded. "We wouldn't dream of going without it."

Leonardo felt a little silly going over things with them again, as if they hadn't had the talk the day before.

"It was quiet last night, and maybe it will be no different now," Timothy suggested.

The blue-masked turtle felt someone else watching, and scanned over his shoulder until he saw Brandon standing in the hall. The man had barely spoken that day. Leonardo knew he was unhappy about being left behind, even though Brandon hadn't openly objected. When he shifted his gaze forward, he noticed Jenna lingering in the doorway from the Lab. The raven-haired woman had a stoic expression on her face, but he could read the concern in her eyes.

"Y'okay, Jen?" Raphael asked.

She nodded. "It just sucks to do this two nights in a row."

"We're gonna be fine, Jenna. It's _our_ turn now," Raphael said dangerously, and made eye contact with Leonardo. "We could get on the road at least, couldn't we, Fearless?"

Leonardo rose to his feet. "It's about that time. Let's gather up everyone else."

In the middle of people moving moments later, Leonardo realized he'd lost track of Brandon. The man was nowhere in sight as everyone else prepared to leave. He sought out Raphael and caught him by the arm. "Will you get everyone directed toward the Sliders? I want to find Brandon real quick."

The red-masked turtle nodded, and Leonardo ran to check Don and Jen's room first. When he found it empty, he returned to the hall and noticed that the door to the Lounge was partially ajar. He nudged it open the rest of the way, and saw Brandon and Jazz sitting on one of the couches.

"Hey, guys. We're about to leave. If everything goes well, we should be home in a couple of hours. I'll keep in touch as much as I can."

Brandon's rigid posture spoke volumes to the turtle. "Take care of each other," he said tightly.

"We always do. This nightmare is so close to being over, Bran. Hang in there, and we'll be back soon."

The man nodded and got up to meet him. "No sense in getting emotional all over again, is there? Give Takashi and crew 'what for', all right?"

Leonardo extended an arm around the man, and then waved at Jazz. "_Your_ nightmare is almost over too," he said. "Soon you'll only have to hang out with us because you _want _to."

The young woman couldn't mask her anxiety. "Don't do anything stupid, okay? You guys are growing on me."

The turtle chuckled. "Okay. Bye, guys."

Leonardo breathed in and out sharply as he left the room, and fingered his phone as he considered calling Calley again. _No, I talked to her less than an hour ago. She knows we're getting down to business._

He bid Jenna farewell in the living area and went outside into the tunnel. The idea that he'd been holding up the group made him grimace, and he hurried to get into the Slider already occupied by his brothers, Luke, Kat and Caleb

"Are we set, Leo?" Raphael asked.

"It sure looks that way, doesn't it?" Leonardo motioned to the Slider in front of them. "Go ahead, Greg! We're right behind you."

Michelangelo had his arms folded across his chest, chilling against the seat as if they weren't getting ready to take on some of the worst villains of their lives.

"You seem relaxed," Leo commented.

"Sure, Bro; been there, done that." Mike grinned.

Leonardo gave him a withering look.

"We've already rehearsed this, Leo." The orange-masked turtle shrugged. "I'm ready to do this. We've been waiting for months. Don't you feel relieved?"

Leo laughed. "I'll feel relieved when it's _over_, Mikey."

Raphael thumped an arm over the youngest turtle's shoulder. "Can't blame a guy for getting a little ahead of himself. Just not _too_ far, Chucklehead," he told Mike. "We've got work to do before we get to celebrate."


	82. Loose Cannons

Brandon cursed under his breath as he searched around the living area for the _one_ element that was missing from his plan. _Dang it, I know Raph left his keys behind. Where _are_ they? _

It had been about half an hour since the others had left, and that meant that the timing was right for him to make a move of his own. Jenna was in the Lab with Donatello, and he didn't know what Jazz was up to. It made sense to get out before anyone would see him, but the missing keys were throwing a wrench in the works.

_This is ridiculous. I need to leave _now_, but I'm not going to get far without the…_His thought trailed off when he suddenly noticed that Jazz was watching his frenzied search from the hallway.

"Looking for something, Brandon?" Jazz asked.

"Um, sort of. I lost…" he faltered, swallowing as he wondered if she knew more than she was letting on.

"You changed your clothes," she mentioned casually.

He cocked his head as he took another look at her. "You did too," he realized.

"Are these what you're searching for?" she suggested, holding up Raphael's key-ring.

Brandon gasped without meaning to. "What are you doing with those?"

"What do _you_ intend to do with them?" Jazz shot back.

He sighed inwardly. "I can't stay here, okay? I thought I could force myself to sit back and wait, but it's not going to happen. I've got this bad feeling in my gut that won't allow it."

"Who are you chasing?"

He crossed his arms. "I haven't decided."

"You're already behind them, and you haven't made up your mind? It's the wrong time to be indecisive, Brandon."

"You think I don't know that? This isn't an exact science. I don't have a clue what this feeling is telling me to do. I know where I want to be, but the chances of me losing it are so great that I could become a _major_ liability."

Jazz nodded. "Then it sounds like we have a longer road trip ahead of us."

"We?" he echoed.

"You don't think you're getting out of here without me, do you? Where's the fun in that?"

"This from the girl who got caught in the middle of a terrifying gun battle?"

"This is different," she protested. "Team Prevention is only going to be poking around Indian Point."

"That doesn't mean it won't be dangerous," he countered.

"Everyone _else_ is out there."

"All of them are in some form of law enforcement! They're professionals."

"Well, _you_ work for the FBI. You train with the turtles. You're a fellow butt-kicker. I'll be safe with you, right?" she asked impishly.

"I don't think it's a good idea," he said honestly.

"It's not a good idea for you to go either, but you are," she retorted. "If we both go, at least we can look after each _other_."

He shook his head. "I'm not going to put you into a dangerous position."

"Then I guess you don't want the keys."

"This isn't a game, Jazz," he said seriously.

She put her hands on her hips defiantly. "Jenna isn't going with you. She wouldn't even let _you_ go without a fight, and I'm not going to stand here silently while you walk out the door. You people stick together, right? So if you go, I go."

"You have no idea what we could be getting into."

"You know what? I'm not anything special, Brandon, and I'm definitely not brave like these turtles. But if they can storm some building full of the worst of the worst to save millions of people who don't know or give a crap about them, then I can step up a little too. The other team is only looking for signs that the Plant has been tampered with, aren't they?"

"That's the plan, but there's probably going to be some resistance, Jazz."

"I figure that's why you've got your sticks on you."

"I already told you what they're called."

"As if I'd be able to repeat it?"

Brandon crossed his arms with a withering glare.

"I'm going with you; that's all there is to it," she continued. His eyes narrowed, but she wasn't budging. "Are you going to fight me for them, or are we going to leave together, before Jen realizes what we're doing?" Jazz held up the keys questioningly.

"You're ticking me off right now."

"I don't care. I'm not letting you go alone. Everyone has to have back-up."

"You're not prepared for this!" He struggled to keep his voice down.

"Neither are you. We're the perfect partners in crime. Do you really want to waste more time arguing with me, or do you want to chase the Indian Point Team?"

Brandon stared her down for several seconds, then glanced longingly at the door.

"So? Are we going?" she asked.

He cast her a dirty look. "We need to hurry. Can you move fast in those shoes? We have to get to the van entrance on foot."

"I've been storing up energy doing nothing for a couple of weeks now. Lead the way, and I'll follow."

As they slipped through the main door, he noticed Jazz put the key-ring in her jacket pocket. "You're going to hold those keys hostage, aren't you?"

"I'm not giving you the chance to ditch me. We're in this together, Man; you may as well accept it."

"It's crazy," he muttered. "They're going to kill us."

"Who?"

"The turtles. My sister. Greg. Take your pick."

"No kidding. You're more worried about your family than you are the Akiudo? It's really time to get going then."

Brandon clenched his jaw in irritation as he picked up speed in the darkness. "You're a civilian; you've got no business being within ten miles of this crap."

"Aren't your doctors considered civilians too?"

"They don't go _inside_ the hell-holes."

"No? What about Hillsboro? Both Jen _and_ Marcus invaded on that mission."

"That wasn't the same thing," he said sharply. "You don't understand how dangerous this is. If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself!"

Jazz was quiet for a few seconds as she kept up with him. "Doesn't choosing a side mean taking action of some kind?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Donny. He told me that I couldn't be neutral forever, that I needed to make up my mind to stand for something. You feel like you need to act, and I do too. If the gang had it their way, this could be the freakin' end of the world as we know it for Manhattan.

"September 11th was bad enough. Nobody can forget where they were or what they were doing that day. It spurred my brother to take action that changed his life forever. We have a chance to stop the terrorists this time, to prevent the strike before it happens.

"In some small way, being a part of this makes me feel like I'm following in the legacy my brother tried to create. If he was here, he'd go. I don't care if I'm afraid. Everybody gets scared, but not everyone gets the opportunity to avert something like this. Stop trying to talk me out of it, and let's get to the van before we're an hour behind them."

* * *

><p>Leonardo was antsy. He knew that they had to wait outside the building until they heard from the other team that they'd arrived at Indian Point, but that didn't make it any easier. <em>They've got a lot more distance to cover than we do, but hopefully it won't be much longer.<em>

As he stared out of the back window of the Avalanche, the first night that they'd met the Akiudo flashed through his mind. _If only we'd known then what we know now. We never would have let them escape the United States to start with. We would have dealt with them properly. It's hard to believe that we didn't, after how close Yukiko came to killing Raph, and the way they kidnapped Mike and the girls. Every encounter we've had with them has escalated in violence, until we're now on the brink of taking deadly action._

He couldn't remember ever going into a mission with such strong anticipation of being forced to take a life. As much as he'd tried to prepare for it, the idea still left a bad taste in his mouth. _We've had no choice but to kill in defense before, but this feels different. I think even Sensei would agree that we have to come on full force though, in order to shut down the threat against the city._

Leonardo let the thought hang in the air for a few moments. _What would you say, Sensei, if you knew I was walking in somewhere with the intention of killing someone? _He dragged the back of his hand across his forehead, wiping away a thin sheen of perspiration. _Shell, we haven't even done anything yet and I feel like I'm sweating bullets._

He felt eyes lingering on the back of his head, and turned to see Raphael staring at him.

"What are we in, Leo?" his brother asked. "What are the Akiudo doing here in New York?"

"They're making war on civilians," he answered softly.

"That's right, and don't forget it. Those idiots want to kill a lot more people than they already have. We're not going easy on them this time, Leo. We can't."

Leonardo looked around the Avalanche, and motioned for Katherine and Mike to huddle up with them. "Our entire lives, we've adhered to a strict code of honor. Sensei ingrained it into us, to never use more force than was necessary to dispatch an enemy. This time is different. We've got many reasons to be angry with the Akiudo, but we're not going in there with rage.

"Tonight is not about revenge for Don or Brandon. It isn't about saving a few more slaves from their collection. They mean to cause significant harm to a large number of people, and we're the only thing standing in their way. We have to be ruthless, but controlled at the same time. Takashi and Yukiko won't go down without a fight. I don't expect any of the gang will.

"Check your hearts and make sure you're coming from the right place. I can't pretend to know what Sensei would say if he was here. I don't have his wisdom or years of experience. But we have each other, and that's what we have to count on."

"Preach it, Bro," Mike cracked. "Really, this is good stuff."

Leonardo made an effort to look stern, but it was hard not to smile at his enthusiastic youngest brother.

"If Sensei was here, I think he'd understand that we're doing what we have to," Raphael piped up.

"I'm here to back you guys up, no matter what," Katherine added.

Leonardo felt his phone vibrate, and tugged it off his belt. He checked the screen before answering it. "What's your position, Greg?"

"We just drove past a check-point," the man said mechanically. "It was unmanned, so we took a quick look around. We found at least seven National Guardsmen, Leo, dead."

The turtle took a sharp breath. "Then they're already inside Indian Point. Can you determine how they were killed?"

"Most of them were shot."

The lump in Leonardo's throat felt like it was growing. "Greg, you _have_ to be careful. You don't know how many there are, and they're clearly armed. It sounds like they're planning on wrapping things up _tonight_."

"We know that, Leo. We came in prepared," he reminded him.

"Their guns are still bigger than yours."

"Then it's a good thing I went for something bigger too."

"Wait…what?"

"I wasn't going to take any chances, Leo. I knew you wouldn't want to hear about it, but I procured a couple of assault rifles too."

"Why would you think I wouldn't want to know?"

"I said you wouldn't want to _hear_ it. We're not going to use them unless they open up with _their_ rifles, and Tim and I are the only ones carrying them. We're trained to handle this kind of weapon."

"I can't believe you kept this from me!"

"Is now the time to have this discussion? Can we talk about it after we save the city?"

"I assure you, we will," Leonardo said with irritation. "How far are you from the Plant?"

"About half a mile. Marcus will stay back at this point, and we'll continue further on foot."

Leo felt butterflies building in his stomach over the thought of his friends facing down gun-toting Akiudo at Indian Point. "Give me a call when you get there, and we'll make our own move." He heard someone trying to click in. "I need to let you go; someone else is trying to reach me. Call me back."

"I will – it shouldn't be long."

The blue-masked turtle switched to the other line, and was greeted by a distraught Donatello.

"Houston, we have a problem!"

"Don, don't tell me Takashi is already moving. We only need a little more time!"

"No, Leo, a _different_ kind of problem! Brandon and Jazz are gone, and so are the keys to the Battleshell!"

"You're kidding me! Are they answering their phones? Where are they heading?"

"Bran's coordinates are traveling out of the city. I think they're going to Indian Point."

Leonardo grunted angrily under his breath. "I should have thought of this. I can't believe this is happening _now_!"

"There's nothing we can do about Brandon and Jazz," Donny said. "You just have to focus on where you're at."

_Sure, _that'll_ be a cinch, _he thought inwardly. _Those two are going to get it when we're finished here._


	83. Anticipating

Raphael felt a thrill of excitement as he climbed out of the Avalanche. He gripped the pommel of one of his sai, barely resisting the urge to draw the weapon. _Soon…take it easy. They're _all_ going down. _He kept an eye on Leonardo as the blue-masked turtle crept around the ghostscraper, suddenly noticing the device in his brother's hand.

Raphael came alongside the oldest turtle for a closer look, and realized Leo was holding an electronic disruptor. "What's that for, Bro? We're not gonna be able to keep in touch with anybody if you use that thing."

"I won't keep it activated the entire time we're in the building; I just want to ensure that we'll make it to the upper levels in silence. I don't want to slip past their sentries. I think we ought to take them out, starting at the ground floor. That could grant them the opportunity to call for help if we don't shut them down. We can't leave one man standing."

"I can go for that." Raphael grinned.

"So I don't want to give anyone the opportunity to sound the alarm early," Leonardo continued. "The disruptor provides us with the built-in hedge to block calls, at least in a narrow range."

"What about Brandon and Jazz?" the red-masked turtle hissed.

Leonardo grunted darkly. "There's nothing we can do about them, Raph. I messaged them to stay out on the fringe with Marcus. Whether or not they'll do it, I couldn't tell you. They picked the _wrong_ time to disobey orders."

Raphael nodded, though he secretly understood Brandon's point of view. _Shell, we're lucky they didn't try to follow us _here_. Bran's not stupid. He can probably keep either of them from being killed, but still…I guess it _is_ awful risky, _and_ they took the van. I'm gonna have a few words for him too. It's probably not as crazy as what _we _are about to do though._

He looked over his shoulder at Kat, and saw a deadly seriousness in her eyes. He was immediately struck by the differences between her and Brandon. _She reminds me a little more of Leo in this sense, at least in the way she's approaching this. It's funny to think that we've known Kat this long, and have never gotten to see her in action up close. That's about to change._

Raphael glanced at Mike bringing up the rear. The orange-masked turtle's jaw was set in a fashion that revealed his own tension, but no real fear.

"One floor at a time, we'll work our way up," Leo said softly. "We're going to be discovered at some point, but let's try to put that off for as long as possible. We'll go in the side of the building like before, and then we can circle around to deal with any watchers. They're bound to have someone keeping an eye out."

Raphael fell back to the end of the group, smirking at the sight of the _Jahng Bong _that Katherine was carrying. _She reminds me of Donny carrying that staff._ _It kills me that Kat has never wanted to spar with any of us. But if she feels weird about it, we have to respect that._

The distracting thought cut off abruptly as Raphael returned his focus to Leonardo edging along the building, heading for the broken window they'd spied out on the third floor the night before. _At least it was bigger than the bathroom window, _he remembered ruefully. Leonardo surprised him by motioning Katherine to a different window on the first level, and the woman stepped up with a glass cutter. _Well, yeah…we're starting at the very bottom this time, _he told himself.

Raphael's smile returned as he watched Leonardo duck inside, and waited for his own turn with growing anticipation. _I'm gonna find you, Yukiko, if it's the last thing I ever do. _He looked around curiously at the dark room they'd entered. It was full of shelving in various stages of destruction. Michelangelo shot him a secretive smile right before following Leonardo and Katherine out into the hall.

All of his senses were on high alert as he crept through the narrow space, straining to hear the tell-tale sounds of someone nearby. Leonardo kept their pace slow to start with, and anticipation turned into impatience. _Dang, let's _go_ already. This thing is gonna take an hour to get started at this rate._

Leonardo led them down the hall closer to the front of the building, and the flash of a small light suddenly caught Raphael's eye. Before he could react to it, he heard a sound like the wind followed by a gasp.

The red-masked turtle surged forward to find his oldest brother cradling the body of a warrior. The man's flashlight was cracked but not broken, casting its beam into open space.

"_Akane_?" Someone called from nearby. "_Akane, are you_—"

Raphael never got to hear the rest of what he was going to say, because Kat lunged toward the figure who was barely illuminated by the flashlight beam. He heard a satisfying _crack, _and trotted up behind the woman to see the results. He chuckled at the sight of her straightening her staff and the bent frame of the man on the floor, even though he was itching for some enemies of his own.

"Nice, Kat," he encouraged the woman.

Katherine leaned down to check her victim as Leonardo took a couple more steps into the open area.

"We need to get rid of the bodies and keep moving," the blue-masked turtle asserted.

Michelangelo chuckled as he lifted the man Katherine had just knocked out. "Where to, Fearless?"

"Let's backtrack down the hall and stow them in the room we came in through. Keep an eye out, Raph, Kat. Mike and I will be right back."

Raphael turned off the warrior's flashlight that was still pointing into thin air, and snuck a glance at his dead phone. _Shutting down their communication isn't a bad thing, it's just sad that it has to affect our stuff too._

He walked further into the room to explore a little bit, and spotted the outline of a doorframe. Raphael peered around the door into what appeared to be an empty stairwell. The red-masked turtle went no further, knowing better than to start climbing without his brothers.

The sound of someone clumsily descending caught his attention before voices even joined the footsteps.

"_Why are you in such a hurry? It is not your fault Akane didn't answer the radio!_"

"_You know that Yukiko will not see it that way! The message was meant to be delivered, and I will not give her a reason to punish me_."

"_You are really scared of that woman, aren't you?_"

"_You act like you aren't!_" the second returned. "_You talk tough when she is not around, but you would no sooner disobey her than I would. I know of no one who is not afraid of her_."

_I could tell you a couple of guys who aren't_, Raphael thought ironically, ducking under the staircase as he heard the men coming closer. He started to motion to Katherine, but the woman had already stuck to his side. They crouched low to the floor as footsteps resounded above them.

Raphael watched as the men touched down on the ground, and tensed to spring as they made straight for the door. He had a hard time containing a snort as he tapped both men across their shoulders. The warriors jerked around so fast that he _did_ end up laughing as he grasped a hand around each of their throats.

"Thanks for coming to visit, guys, but it's time you left New York for _good_."

A strangled cry escaped one of them as Raphael drove him forcefully into the wall. The man's body shuddered, but he didn't make another sound as he collapsed, senseless, to the floor. He pressed the second man's back up against the wall, bracing his hand to prevent the warrior from yelling.

"You scared of Yukiko, Man? You _shoulda_ been scared of us."

The man's hands grappled with Raphael's arm, but he wasn't nearly strong enough to break the turtle's grip.

"Raph," Leo called quietly from the door. "Hurry up – there's no time to mess with them."

Raphael drove his free fist into the man's jaw, and he hefted the warrior over his shoulder. "Just finding something to do while I was waitin' on you, Leo."

The blue-masked turtle shook his head. "We have to get rid of them and keep moving."

* * *

><p>The group climbed steadily now, checking every floor for electricity in use to indicate that someone could be present. A complete sweep of the building would have to wait until they'd faced the major portion of the men head-on.<p>

Raphael continued to bring up the rear behind Michelangelo, his adrenaline increasing with every passing minute. _I'm so ready for this. We all are. Where are you boneheads hiding? Come out and take your beatings like real men._

Thus far, they'd only seen a couple more men, to whom they'd distributed swift retribution. The higher they climbed, the closer Raphael expected to be getting to the real action. _It sure seems like Takashi took a lot for granted. 'Course, we don't know how long he's been in the US. Weeks went by in between him escaping Okinawa, and that first attack on the subway. He must think he's keeping some things from us. It's gonna be fun to prove him wrong._

As they approached the next level, Raphael could see that Leonardo had stopped, and was waiting by the exit door. The light streaming into the stairwell from underneath the door was all the proof of life taht was required.

"Okay," Leo said calmly. "This could be the end of the road for our quiet invasion. Stay together. Watch each other's backs."

Raphael drew both sai in a flash and nodded at Leonardo. "Let's _go_, fearless leader."

The red-masked turtle crowded in close behind Michelangelo and Katherine, waiting for room to get into the adjoining hallway. Leonardo opened the door silently, but his stride quickened when he reached the other side. Raphael laughed to himself. _He's ready to get started too. _The shout that went up almost immediately was refreshing to hear. Raphael was _dying_ to explode.

Leonardo dashed to meet four shadows that were congregated in the middle of the hall. Raphael experienced momentary jealousy that his brother had first shot at them from his better position, until he heard a voice that made his blood boil.

"_Up, men, NOW! Invaders_!"

Michelangelo wisely got out of his way before he would have mowed him down, leaving Raphael to slip past Katherine to get to his main objective. He wasted no time in toying with the insignificant warrior who thought he'd try to block his path, meeting the man with a powerful uppercut to the underside of his chin.

He flipped right past Leonardo, who was easily holding his own against two other men, and focused on the shadowy silhouette of the woman who symbolized the bane of his existence. Raphael dearly wanted to launch at her, but experience had taught him better. Rather than allowing her the chance to intercept his attacks, it was better to slow down and anticipate hers.

Raphael spun his sai with a chuckle when he realized that she didn't have her normal weapon. "What's the matter, huh? Did we catch you off guard or something?"

"I have waited all too long to see _you_ again," she retorted.

Her stance was completely relaxed, and gave him no idea as to her intended method of attack. The narrow hallway wasn't the ideal place for a fight of this magnitude, but that wasn't going to deter Raphael now that she was in sight.

Without warning Yukiko sprang toward him, and he had a mere moment to realize that her leg was coming for his jaw. Raphael dropped low to avoid the strike, and bulled his head toward her unprotected chest. Her reflexes were faster than the speed of light as she snapped up her elbow to catch him in the forehead before he connected with her.

He threw up both fists to defend himself as he staggered backwards a step, and managed to block the blow with which she tried to follow up. Raphael heard the rustle of fabric as she leaped and flipped neatly over him. He spun around, expecting another immediate attack. The turtle looked left and right without seeing her, cursing out loud.

Raphael used the back of his hand to wipe blood from the elbow strike she'd landed, and angrily resumed gripping his sai as he continued his search for the cursed woman. Suddenly she materialized like a ghost, holding a spear in hand.

"_Now_ we will finish it," she proclaimed.

He had to back up swiftly to avoid the longer reach of her weapon. Raphael tried to capture the shaft under the prongs of his sai, but she was too fast for him, swapping the spear from one hand to the other.

Yukiko hefted the sharp edge toward him with a strong thrust, and he maneuvered underneath the blade with a deep breath. Raphael was unintentionally losing ground as the woman forced him to backpedal from the spear's blade. With a growl he threw one of his sai, praying the point would go straight through her heart.

The wretched woman spun so that the blade only landed a glancing blow to her shoulder. Her calm seemed utterly unaffected as she rammed the spear in his direction once more. Raphael considered throwing his other weapon, but decided to wait for a tremendous opening before risking the loss of _both_ sai.

A rapid glance over the shoulder told him that he was running out of room fast. The woman had obviously planned to trap him between the dead end of the window and her spear, with nowhere left to go. _It's not gonna be _that_ easy, witch._

Raphael's eyes narrowed as he heeded the way she rotated the spear, bringing it to bear again. He jumped toward her with what must have appeared to be a suicidal lunge, never taking his eyes off the weapon. As she brought the blade into position to strike, he wrapped first one hand and then the other around the shaft, yanking the spear with all of his might.

The ridiculous woman hung on, and he couldn't have cared less. Raphael pulled the spear back over his shoulder, and then turned to one side to avoid the woman who had taken flight with it. Yukiko appeared to fly through the window in slow motion, as glass shattered in an angry frenzy. He had a couple of seconds to breathe before he was instantly accosted by three men from behind.

Raphael rolled his eyes as he leveled the closest warrior with a blow to the ribcage. He jerked out of the path of an oncoming fist, and made good use of his feet to lay the second man flat with an explosive kick to the side of his head.

He snorted as the third swung a scythe blade toward his throat and cracked his hand down on his opponent's arm. When the man's weapon clattered to the floor, Raphael used his weight to throw him off balance, and sent his foe packing with a debilitating thrust to the throat.

The turtle scanned the men to make sure they were down, and retrieved his missing sai from where it had fallen. Then he hurried back to the broken window, and stretched his head outside to look for signs of Yukiko. He couldn't see the woman, no matter how he squinted in the darkness. With a shuddering breath he ducked inside the building, and hurried back into battle.


	84. Prevent

Greg was surprised to see some lights on at Indian Point, since the power had been out the last that they knew. _Someone's up to no good and they have to be checked. _Everything looked quiet from the outside, but he knew better than to accept the calm environment at face value.

He clutched his rifle close to his chest as he set first foot on the property, and tried to determine where his team should go first. It had been agreed in advance that they needed to pay attention to the spent fuel pools, and Greg figured that would be a good place to start. Sayuri was beside him, and he could just see Kelley and Tim out of the corner of his eye when he turned his head.

Greg felt like he couldn't hear anything for miles; even the wind was quiet, giving him the impression that Nature itself seemed to be holding its breath. He scanned every direction to watch for potential enemies, but he'd yet to spot a single soul. _That's not entirely a bad thing, but I know they have to be here somewhere. Brandon and Jazz had better stay back with Marcus, or I'm going to strangle them. We don't need this type of distraction; we've got to get to work! I hope the guys are okay._

He tried to contact the turtles once more to no avail, but he could tell that the sound over the phone line was from the disruptor shutting down electronic devices. It didn't mean they were facing more than they could handle on the Akiudo's end. _I don't know that, of course. There's no telling how many of the warriors they regrouped. That's the hardest part of all of this. We each have an individual task to carry out, regardless of what's going on with anyone else. They could be going to hell in a hand basket, and there's nothing I could do about it. We're too far away to be of any use to them._

Greg tried to focus his mind on his present location. They'd been able to review some images in advance thanks to Kelley, but the series of buildings looked larger and more foreboding in the darkness. The tin roofs of the fuel pools, however, weren't difficult to pick out. He took a deep breath inwardly as the units came into view, and motioned for the others to come closer.

"We can go about this one of two ways. The buildings are in close proximity, so it wouldn't be difficult to divide and conquer," Greg started.

"I don't like the idea of splitting up," Tim negated. "The goal was to stay together."

_Unless something goes south_, Greg thought morosely, but he nodded. "Then we'll take one pool at a time and check the areas together."

Sayuri's fingers brushed against his wrist, and he glanced over at the woman.

"I don't like how quiet it is," she told him.

"Neither do I, but we have to push forward and keep our eyes open."

The woman shivered as if she'd caught a chill. "I have a bad feeling over all of this."

He squeezed her hand in return. "It's going to be all right. We'll get through it."

They searched around the first building until they came to a door. Greg tried the knob for the heck of it, and found the door unlocked. _The Officials wouldn't have left it that way. It's been tampered with all right. _

Greg slipped into the building, and reached for his flashlight when he met complete darkness. He cast the beam of his light over the space curiously, letting it linger on the surface of what actually resembled giant swimming pools. The man shook his head distastefully as he imagined the amount of nuclear waste that had to be stored there, cooling down for the long period before it could be moved to dry casks. _And for now, it's all been shut down._

"What are we looking for?" Tim murmured.

"We don't know what their intentions are here, so that's impossible to say for certain." Kelley broke his uncharacteristic silence. "We should be searching for their people, shouldn't we? To prevent them from acting. That's why we're here."

Greg had the temptation to chuckle. _We want to avoid notice, and yet we have to find them. It never occurred to me how difficult this task would turn out to be_. "I think we can start by looking for anything that seems unusual," he suggested, and then gazed at Kelley. "Unless you have a better idea, Sir."

Kelley shrugged. "I've never thrown the rule book out the window before. I wouldn't be the one to ask, Heffernan."

Greg started to say something to Sayuri, but the woman wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were focused across the room, widened as if she'd seen something. "What is it?" he asked.

"I thought I saw another light," she answered. "Someone is out there, I'm almost sure of it."

Greg turned off his beam in a flash, but the total darkness was unnerving. _Little good it will do. I wasn't even _trying_ to hide my flashlight. They've got to know someone is here too. Do we move on with the light and hope that we aren't outmanned and outgunned, or should we keep going in the dark, with no clue what's around us? Neither idea seems that great._

He felt the presence of the others pulling in together beside him, and decided to compromise by using the backlight from his phone to give them _something_. "We need to make a decision real quick here, whether to search out who's inside this unit, or go back outside. We'll be announcing ourselves if—"

Greg was cut off by an explosion of light behind them, at the door they'd used to access the building. The shadowed outline of pursuers had Kelley grabbing his shoulder.

"Divide!" the older man ordered hoarsely. "Don't let them catch us together."

Greg swallowed. "Sayuri, Tim, go left, and don't fire unless you have to. Try not to give yourselves away. We have to attempt to pick them off in smaller groups if we're gonna have a shot of doing this."

He felt Kelley's hand on his back as they went in the opposite direction, not waiting to make sure that the others did as he'd told them. Greg kept one hand braced against the wall to guide them through the space, hoping for another door that would lead them out of the open. He used the backlight on his phone to provide a tiny bit of direction, so they could keep moving quickly.

Kelley was saying nothing, which scared Greg more than if the man had been talking a mile a minute. In the faint light from his cell phone screen, he saw an upcoming hallway. Another look over his shoulder confirmed the number of men that pursued them. _Whether it's a way out or a dead end, we have to try this._

Greg veered around a corner, and felt the oncoming wind of an attacker seconds before he struck. The sandy-haired man lunged out of the way, jerking Kelley's arm to pull him to safety. An odd sound that vaguely reminded him of a staple gun resounded in his ears, and he heard Kelley gasp.

Greg tried to get his arms around the larger man, but Kelley was on the ground in an instant. The older man's body was rigid as if every muscle was tensing at the same time, but he didn't utter another sound. His first reaction was to yank Kelley back to his feet, but the man didn't appear _capable_ of budging.

As he was still trying to help his Director, someone stretched a hand over his shoulder from behind, and Greg noticed a small box in the hand of his attacker as it hovered inches from his wrist. He swore as he heard the strange sound again and felt something metal embed into his skin. The circular disc made no sense in his mind, until he felt a powerful shock course through his entire body. Despite the pain the current produced, he was unable to vocalize a single word.

As the electrical pulse hesitated, he realized that he hadn't even been breathing. Greg rolled his eyes over to Kelley from where he was lying on the ground, and saw the man move the fingers of one hand. _Paralysis is temporary—_he thought fleetingly, right before something crashed over the back of his head.

* * *

><p>Brandon stared at the image of Indian Point in the distance impatiently, and picked up the phone to call Donny for something to <em>do<em>. "Have you heard from anyone?" he asked the purple-masked turtle.

"No." He could read Donatello's anxiety from his tone. "I'm watching life signs on my brothers, and everything is strong. No reason for concern. I figured Greg might have contacted me by now, but there's been nothing."

"You have no idea how frustrating it is to stare at the lights coming from the Plant and not go anywhere," Brandon told him.

"_I_ have no idea what it's-" Donatello sounded sarcastic, but then stopped. "You see lights from Indian Point?"

"Not many, but yes."

"Why didn't anyone _tell _me?" he demanded.

"Is that important?"

"Of course it is! Hang on a second."

Brandon heard him typing in the background, and waited for the turtle to speak again.

Donatello cursed. "No. The user interface is still down. They must only be running on partial power. I can't access squat from here."

"What do you need to access?"

"In a perfect world, I'd like to get some eyes on a larger portion of the Plant and find out what the shell they're doing in there."

Brandon glanced at Jazz. "I don't suppose there's a possibility that Jazz and I could be of any assistance?"

"Bran, you're not supposed to be in the action."

"Neither were _you_ last time," he retorted. "But you were right inside their fortress with the rest of us. Our guys are operating blindly in there, Donny. I'm of the mind to go whether you say yes or no, so you may as well cooperate with me."

"I'm not going to agree with this."

"That's fine, Don. I'm going to talk to Jazz, and I'll let you know what we decide."

"Brandon, Leo said—"

"Bye, Donny." He hung up, and found Jazz staring at him.

"What's the deal?" she asked.

"Donny mentioned something about trying to get an inside view of the Plant since there's some power. He said the user interface isn't working?"

Jazz nodded. "Right…so we'd need a physical terminal. Are we going?"

"He doesn't want us to."

"We're _here_, Brandon. What do you want to do? If we're looking at the end of the world as we know it, we may as well get a front row seat."

"This is insane."

"So what's new?"

"You have a point," he allowed. "Okay, let's do it."

Brandon had no sooner fired up the Battleshell than he spied Marcus dashing around the side of the van.

"What are you guys thinking?" the man asked.

"We're going, Marc. Period. It's a big place. If we can get a bird's eye view, we'll have a greater advantage," Brandon told him through the open window.

"Let me in," Marcus ordered.

"You're not coming inside the Plant, are you?" Brandon asked.

"No, because you're allowed to disobey orders and I'm not," Marcus retorted.

"_Someone_ has to stay healthy enough to administer medical treatment," Brandon offered.

"Shut up and let me in the car."

* * *

><p>Brandon stopped a few yards short of the main gate, and gave Marcus a meaningful look. "Stay in the car unless you see a giant mushroom cloud."<p>

"_Not_ funny." Marcus frowned.

Jazz readily jumped out of the passenger side. "What's the game here, Brandon?"

"Stay out of sight," he returned. "I don't want to get into it with anyone, not with you involved. We need to find a computer."

"They usually keep a private security company on the premises, right?" Jazz asked. "They'd need access to a monitor feed. There's probably somewhere to access it without going inside the main buildings."

Brandon tried to stay alert for every possibility as they silently trod across the property. His heart beat faster and his breathing automatically quickened as nerves tried to take over. _No. Not now. _He centered his breathing the way Leonardo had trained him, focusing on the most calming visualization he could muster.

He was so busy preventing himself from experiencing a breakdown, he didn't realize that Jazz had stopped in her tracks.

"Brandon," she called softly. "There. Let's check it out."

The man tracked her motion to see a dark glassed-in booth. He followed _her_ lead as she trotted toward it, and peered inside the window.

"I see a flashing power-strip," she said. "It has electricity. We just need to get in there."

Brandon circled the small structure warily, making certain no one else was nearby before approaching the door. He jiggled the knob experimentally and it didn't move. "Stand back for a second."

"What are you gonna do?"

Rather than answer her, he honed all the power of his right leg on a concise thrust against the frame, and smirked as the door gave way.

Jazz shook her head. "Don't have much call for keys, do you?"

"After you."

The young woman climbed into the booth and ran her fingers over the keyboard once before ducking down to search for something under the desk. Brandon turned on his flashlight for her, and she straightened up a moment later. As soon as the computer came to life, Jazz reached for her phone.

"I'm at a terminal, Donny. No, it wants a password. Give me a minute to create another user name, and I'll skip over all of this. No, we're not inside; it's a little guard hut or something. There's no one around…. Brandon's _watching_, Don."

The woman was quiet for a little while as she clicked through screens. "It doesn't want to allow another user, should I…No. I didn't try that. Hang on." Her fingers flew across the keys faster than Brandon could make out anything she was typing. "You're right; the IT setting did it. I'm in. God bless a manual override. Let me see here."

Brandon kept scanning the area while Jazz worked in the background, along with Donatello on the phone.

"_Some_ of the monitoring feed is up. I'm seeing limited camera angles, mostly on the buildings with the reactors and the cooling towers. I don't see any sign of activity yet. No, I don't have any views on the fuel pools – that was one of the first things I looked for too. Let me look through the rest of these possibilities."

Jazz's silence was deafening for a couple more minutes. "I've got a hit on something," she mentioned finally. "In the base of the cooling tower for the second reactor. I don't know if I can adjust it any closer, Donny. I'll try."

Brandon glanced over as she typed in a command that enlarged the monitor view, and caught the image of three figures that seemed to be dressed for a science fiction movie.

"What are they doing?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "Don, there are men here that look like scientists. Not dressed like the Akiudo, but they're definitely foreign. They're working on something, but I can't tell what it is. If I had to guess, I…" She cursed. "Yes, that's what I was going to say! No, they're in the cooling tower, Donny. It doesn't appear that the fuel pools have anything to do with this!" Jazz gasped, a strangled sound that made it seem like she couldn't breathe.

"Jazz, what?" Brandon inserted. "What are you talking about?"

"This isn't about nuclear _waste_," she replied. "They don't care about strontium. They're after the plutonium; they have to be!"

"What do they want with plutonium?"

"Are you seriously asking me that question? It looks like they're working on a weapon, something to take advantage of the resources already present inside the reactor."

Brandon swallowed deeply. "I think we just found something to prevent."


	85. Teams

Greg awoke to an irritatingly familiar sensation in his wrists and shoulders. From the painful way his arms were being wrenched, he already knew that it was worthless to struggle. He opened his eyes laboriously, regretting the headache he was _definitely_ going to have in the morning.

Greg looked around the dimly lit room, searching for bad guys. He didn't see anyone immediately, but when he rolled his neck to the left, he caught sight of Kelley restrained beside him, his wrists interwoven with a pipe by a length of chain. He cursed, and his boss looked his direction.

"You all right, Heffernan?"

"Yep," he replied with annoyance.

"No one mentioned this part in the playbook," Kelley said.

"Welcome to the club," Greg said. "Where are they? They didn't just leave us here, did they?"

"Oh no, I've heard a couple of people outside the door; not that we can _do_ anything about them. I don't think they found Sayuri or Tim. There was a ton of activity coming from one of their radios, but it was all in Japanese. I don't know what they were saying."

"That's the fun part of dealing with a gang like this one. Some of them can threaten you in _two_ languages."

"I don't understand why they didn't kill us," Kelley said softly.

Greg would have shrugged, if his shoulders were in a position to do so. "If they recognized me, I'm probably too valuable to kill outright. I have Shitenno connections," he said impishly.

"But they shot at all of you by the docks."

"The turtles were there too. The only reason they would want us alive is if they think they can gain some advantage over the guys by using us."

"Has that ever worked?"

"Well…kind of. I mean, the whole reason Stolle and Lilah set James and I up in Dayton was because they wanted to get to the guys. They caught us…the turtles chased us, and most of them got caught too."

"Who's _Lilah_?"

"I think that story can wait for another day."

"So this is typical for you?" Kelley asked.

"I wouldn't say that you can get used to something like this, no."

"You don't seem very concerned."

"Naturally. I woke up alive, and the guys are still out there. No point in getting upset unless I wake up next to some gate leading to the afterlife."

"You are so much stranger than I gave you credit for."

"You don't know the half of it."

"I don't think I _want_ to."

Greg heard the squeal of the door, but the room didn't get any brighter as someone entered. The figure called to another in Japanese, and then strode toward them. He maintained an emotionless exterior as the Asian man stared at him long and hard. Then he noticed that their warden had a phone in his hand.

The warrior spoke to someone with a note of deference, nodding as he kept his eyes fixed on Greg. The gibberish persisted for a couple of minutes, and then the man gave him a strange smile as he hung up the phone.

"There were others with you," the man intoned almost perfectly. "How many are here?"

"Others?" Greg asked innocently. "I don't know what you mean."

"If you choose to be difficult, I guarantee you will regret it." The warrior reached up to tap the chain covering his right wrist. "Your sensor is still in place underneath. You did not enjoy the current, did you?" He held up small device that Greg had seen before. "It is wireless, so I don't need to be anywhere near you to activate it. The effects are powerful, but short-lived. That means I can get away with using it for several minutes at a time."

Greg gazed back at the man as if unconcerned, and didn't say anything in response. The individual turned his head to include Kelley. "And you? Have you nothing to say either?"

Kelley made eye contact with Greg quickly, and then calmly focused on the man in front of them. "There wasn't anyone else with us. You got who you were looking for."

"You lie!" the warrior spat angrily. "The men saw _more _than two figures—"

"It was dark. They were mistaken," Kelley interrupted.

"You are fools, both of you," the man proclaimed. "We will find the others, and you will suffer far greater things before the night is finished." He spun around and stalked out of the room.

Greg let out a quiet breath when he'd gone. "Sensors," he said. "The charge must be connected to them somehow. If we could get them off—"

"If we could get them off, that would mean we could get loose," Kelley said wryly. "He didn't follow through with his threat though, and I figured he would."

"He's a peon," Greg said knowingly. "He hasn't been given the green light to torture anyone, so all he can do is hold onto us until Takashi says differently."

"Do you think that was Takashi on the phone?"

"I couldn't tell you that, Sir. It was probably him or Yukiko." Greg fell silent again at the thought of the guys over at the ghostscraper. _I hope things are going better for them than they are for us. Still, it wasn't a complete loss. Sayuri and Tim are out there, and it isn't over yet. We're alive, so there's a chance that things can be turned around. I'm not accepting the inevitable unless we have no choice in the matter._

He felt Kelley's gaze and met the man's eyes again.

"Do you think the turtles are doing all right with the Akiudo?" Kelley asked.

"Sure they are," he said confidently. "We're the lame ones who had to go and get caught," Greg cracked.

Kelley shook his head. "Someone _will _come after us, won't they?"

"Director, in this family we don't leave anyone behind. I don't know how we'll get out of this, but I'd put my money on survival if I was you."

* * *

><p>Michelangelo was thoroughly sick of fighting in the hallway with very little space to spread out the way he wanted to. He'd just finished fending off the advance of a sword-wielding warrior who could have used a few years of lessons from Leonardo, when he had a split-second to check on Katherine.<p>

In the semi-darkness of the hall the woman was a little difficult to pick out, as her shadow tended to blend in with the other figures that were trying so hard to bring them down. A distinctly feminine cry caught his attention, and he jerked to the left to see a man performing a chokehold on Katherine against the wall.

Mike sprung from the ground to rush to her defense, but Kat reacted before he got there. In the flash of an eye she weaved her arm under and over her attacker's biceps to break his grip, and brought her knee up with a snapping motion to collide with the man's chin. _Atta-girl, Kat._

The orange-masked turtle heard someone else bearing down on him while his attention was diverted, and he backpedaled into a wall to avoid the collision. Mike had no further room to maneuver as the warrior thrust his fist toward his face, but he reacted by instantly bringing up both forearms to block the punch, and then surged into the man's personal space. Mike drove the warrior backwards with the brunt force of his shoulder, and used a hard right to finish his enemy off while he was still in mid-air

Michelangelo shortly noticed that there was a lull in the number of bodies attacking them, and looked around in the hope of escaping the restrictive hall. When he located his oldest brother, it was clear he wasn't the only one thinking that way. He saw Leonardo bounce off the opposite wall and decimate the door across from him with a shuddering front kick.

"Move, guys!" he heard Leonardo shout, and grinned as the blue-masked turtle flew into the room.

Mike made sure that Katherine was behind him, and then noticed Raphael charging up the center of the hallway. He could hear the sound of more pounding feet coming from the exit door. _Sounds like the second wave is arriving. Better get a good spot while we can!_

Mike dashed into the room, laying a hand on both nunchucks in anticipation. He cast a swift glance down the line of his brothers and Kat, and then spun around to face the door. _Let them come; we're ready for 'em._

He grinned as the first couple of men entered the room, despite the warning laid down by Raphael's war cry. _Why anyone would want to mess with that is beyond me. _The larger part of the force was directly behind them, and a warrior immediately honed in on Mike with a round-house kick.

The orange-masked turtle chuckled as he turned to the side and rolled into the man's leg, catching him by the ankle. He brought his other elbow down in a fracturing blow to his opponent's knee, and let him crumble beneath him.

"Pleasure doing business with you," he chortled. "Who's next?"

He smiled when the next man's hands slipped across his frame, as if he was trying to grapple with the turtle. "Oh, you wanna _wrestle_, huh? I should warn you - I've had a little practice."

Mike took a step to meet the warrior and shoved the man's right shoulder away from him, while he yanked his left arm _toward_ him. He bent his knees and rapidly rotated the man into position so he could kick his hips out from underneath him. He waved at his attacker as he groaned from the floor.

"If you're up for a rematch, let me know!"

Mike picked up the sound of Katherine's yell to his left, and he turned his head in time to see the woman lead off with a jab and reverse punch combination that looked awfully familiar. Neither lightning fast strike laid into the warrior she was facing, but Mike knew from training with Brandon what her real goal was.

He couldn't help smirking as Kat took the small step back that he'd been expecting. She delivered a rotating kick with her left leg to his chest, while the man was still geared toward protecting his face from her. _I see where Bran is picking up some of his moves…or vice versa._

The room was getting more crowded, and Michelangelo found the necessity to focus. His grin wasn't shaken as he was finally surrounded, and withdrew his weapons in a seamless motion. "C'mon in, guys, there's plenty of room for you," he taunted. "All of you combined ought to be able to take care of one turtle without _too_ much trouble."

He watched for the moment that the circle tightened up around him, extending both nunchucks over his shoulders. When their position was perfect, he led off with a helicopter spin of his weapons that connected with four men in a single pass.

Mike chuckled with satisfaction, "Wasn't so hard, was it?"

He used his nunchucks to their full advantage in the battle now, switching between downward and upward spins to confuse his combatants, and to surprise another who actually thought it was possible to sneak up behind him while he was busy.

Mike laid into the men harder as minutes passed, and some of his mirth fled. As he whipped someone's head back with a swinging blow from the handle of a nunchuck, he was drawn by quick movement across the room. When he took a second look, he realized that Leonardo was bolting for the door.

Michelangelo veered out of an attacker's path to follow his brother partway to figure out what he was doing. Another fist tried to cut him off, and Mike shook his head as he feinted to one side, caught the man by the arm, and flung him several feet over his shoulder.

"Leo!" he yelled after his brother.

The blue-masked turtle didn't stop, and Mike glanced _past_ him this time to see Takashi standing in the doorframe.

"I have to deal with this!" Leonardo called back, dodging out of the fray.

_Shell, Leo, kick his tail for all of us._


	86. Sneaking In

Brandon cut across the darkest patch of the property that he could find, carefully leading the way toward the building that housed one of the two operational reactors. He could tell that Jazz was scared. Her fear was more pronounced now than when they'd arrived. If he wasn't concerned that he would need her technical assistance, he would have dropped the young woman off at the car.

_If she would have let me, _he added. _Jazz probably wouldn't have stayed behind willingly, not at this point._

Everything had been silent since they had begun their trek, but Brandon had seen beams of light show up from several points across the Plant. His heart pounded harder as he imagined what the others were doing, but he and Jazz already had their own task to carry out. _Unless I receive a distress signal, I can't even consider interfering. I can't leave Jazz alone in any case, and I'm sure not going to drag her straight into a fight with me. Of course, I might _already_ be doing that right now, _he thought ironically.

He found himself wishing he had one of the turtles with him, more than anything else. _It wouldn't even matter who it was. Just someone to keep my feet on the ground and not let me screw this up. _Please_ don't let me screw this up._

Brandon felt Jazz catch his sleeve from behind, and he looked back at her. "You all right?"

"Yeah, sure," she replied, though her eyes looked larger in the moonlight than they ever had. "Do you think that the others caught up with anyone?"

"I couldn't say," he replied. _And part of me doesn't want to call them, because I can't do anything. _"Are you really okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be okay? We're just two unarmed people running around a Nuclear Power Plant that's been commandeered by terrorists who want to blow everything up. No big deal."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm not going down without a fight," he assured her.

"What will I be doing during said fight besides screaming my head off?"

"You never know, Jazz," he said impishly. "Some defensive instincts might kick in."

"I'll be sure to include that line when I'm writing my speech to deliver for winning the Nobel Peace Prize."

He grinned. "If you're going to aim high, that's the way—" Brandon cut himself off suddenly when he heard footsteps running too close to them for comfort. He yanked Jazz by the arm and dropped flat on the ground in between two circulating units.

The young woman covered her mouth with both hands as she trembled. Brandon extended an arm around her as the footsteps suddenly got louder, and hesitated. He didn't breathe in the silence that followed, until it was broken by the blast of a radio. He couldn't understand the Japanese, but the tone of the speech sounded emphatic and irritated. He raised his head a couple of inches as the feet started moving again, and their sound retreated.

Brandon let out the air he'd been holding, and rose onto his knees to have a look around. "C'mon, Jazz. We're clear." He offered her a hand to help her gain her feet, and set his face toward the goal. _Okay. No more messing around. We've got to get down to business._

He could see a cooling tower, and only hoped that they were approaching the correct building. _We won't know for sure until we see some kind of identifying marker. _Brandon glared at the offending card strip entry panel, and thought about all the times that Donatello had finagled his way past just such a device.

"Can I have a little light?" Jazz requested.

"Can you get the door open?"

"Well, they all have some type of safety function in the case of—Wait a minute," she interrupted herself, looking at the keypad more closely.

Brandon was surprised to hear her snort, and was even more so when Jazz punched a single button that opened the door. "How'd you do that?" He gasped.

"It's already been overridden," she explained. "I didn't 'do' anything."

"Then I'm guessing we probably have the right building," Brandon theorized. "Stay close, okay?"

She nodded.

The man fingered his staffs for the first time that evening as they slowly entered the containment building. He wanted to ask Jazz about the effects that a nuclear weapon could have involving Indian Point, but he wasn't sure she knew the answer, and he wasn't positive _he_ wanted to either. _The possibilities don't matter. We can't allow them to trigger anything._

Brandon hesitated close to the doorway so that he and Jazz could study the layout that was posted on the wall, and his eyes traveled to a metal cat-walk that they would need to cross to get to the stairs. He felt exposed under the full lights of the building after running around in the dark outside, but it couldn't be helped.

"So we need to head down a floor," Jazz suggested.

"Yeah. Let's go."

The man discovered that he had to step deliberately to avoid making much noise on the metal walkway. As they traveled slowly down, he couldn't help gazing up at the immense domed ceiling. "It's supposed to be strong enough to survive a plane crash," he told Jazz.

"The kind of explosive power they're harnessing is probably a lot stronger," she answered.

"Like, end of the world bigger?"

"For a whole lot of people, and _not_ just New York City," Jazz clarified. "But we need to see the weapon before we jump to any conclusions." She stopped suddenly on a landing, pointing to a door a couple of yards from the bottom of the staircase. "Hopefully that will connect us to the unit I saw on the feed."

"That's where they're building the bomb?"

"The thing looked like it was _already_ built for the most part; there were just a couple of stray components on the table."

Brandon had to focus to steady himself on the stairs. He was eager to track down whatever was being set up, before there wouldn't be a chance to stop it.

"It just occurred to me that someone watching the feed could probably see us right now," Jazz commented suddenly.

"Hopefully they're too distracted by what the others are doing to notice," Brandon said tightly.

"So does that make them Team Distraction and _us_ Team Prevention?"

He _almost_ laughed. "It makes us Team 'find the bomb quickly before they find us.'"

"That doesn't have the same ring to it."

Brandon shook his head at her as they approached the second door. He saw the keypad and grinned hopefully. "Can you work your magic button?"

"_You_ could even do this, Brandon."

"Nah. Me and technology are like Leo and the microwave."

"Why _isn't_ he allowed to use it?"

"We can talk about that later, Jazz."

She punched the appropriate key, and Brandon led the way into the darkness of the connecting hall. He quickly realized that the lights weren't on, and fumbled for his flashlight as the door closed behind Jazz. The light slipped from his fingers in his haste, and he heard it hit the floor.

Brandon cursed as he searched for the flashlight in complete darkness. "C'mon, it has to be here," he muttered. "Where? Where is it?"

The seemingly insignificant detail of losing the only light left him feeling trapped in the dark, which had the effect of speeding up his heart rate and triggering his panic in a flash. Brandon struggled to slow down and breathe normally as the tiny backlight of Jazz's phone flickered on, and she felt her way across the floor to find the flashlight.

"Here it is," she said softly. "It's okay; I've got it, Brandon."

"It's not okay; _I'm_ not okay! I shouldn't be here," he exclaimed. "I can't control it, I can't stop the fear from—" Brandon was shocked when the woman gave him a light push against the wall and covered his mouth with her finger.

"You're _okay_, Brandon. You are. Take a minute to catch your breath. We're already here. It's too late to turn back. I'm counting on you to look after me," she finished lightly.

He was so shaken by the personal space barrier she'd broken, he'd almost forgotten how close to losing it he'd just been. Brandon breathed in and out slowly and then heaved a sigh.

"Are you feeling any better?" she asked, lingering mere inches away.

"Yeah, I…I think."

"Good. Then you'd better lead on."

She handed him the flashlight, and he felt his face flushing in the darkness. _I'm almost glad it's dark now. _His mind was reeling from the roller coaster of emotions, yet his body suddenly felt energized enough to take on an army. _But I hope that's not on the agenda, _he thought ruefully.

He kept his eyes forward, though his tingling spine made him want to turn around and stop Jazz in _her_ tracks. _No, I can't be distracted right now._

Brandon heard a door echoing from the other end of the hall, and hissed a warning to Jazz. He edged against the wall as a flashlight beam traveled down the corridor, and drew his staffs instantly. Then he waited. Unless the light fell on him, he would stay still until the men were within better range.

Two men were talking to each other casually in their foreign tongue, without any of the concern that the last man who'd run by them outside had displayed. Brandon's grip tightened on his weapons as their voices and the light came closer, and he prepared to launch. _I've got to catch them _both_ off guard. Wait for it...wait._

When the men were in striking distance, he lunged silently toward them. One staff struck the head of the closest man, but the other only landed a glancing blow to the second man's shoulder. The one still on his feet tried to draw a gun, but Brandon's staff struck the man's wrist so hard that he knew he'd probably fractured it. Brandon swung his second staff in an arc and finished the man before he had a chance to do anything else.

"I knew I was keeping you around for a reason," Jazz remarked. "Um…can I do anything to help here?"

Brandon was already moving on to the task of dragging the two warriors back down the hall. He grunted through the effort of it before responding to her. "Just keep the light on where we're going, and get that next door open."

"What are you going to do with them?"

"Tie them up and leave them somewhere." Brandon cautiously emerged into the next building, and then bent down to restrain the men with zip ties.

"Where did you get those?" she asked.

"When you travel in a pack with the turtles, you learn to carry them." Brandon straightened up from the floor. "We need to keep moving."

Jazz hung closer behind him than before, and he felt protectiveness rising that gave him greater boldness. Brandon followed the light that was coming from an open doorway, and stopped short of standing in front of it.

As he lingered around the corner, he heard men speaking to each other, and took the chance of peeking into the room. Brandon laid eyes on two figures in white lab coats and took an inward breath as he backed off.

"Okay. Two scientist-looking guys."

"Are they armed?"

"I can't tell. We have to get into that room."

"If we can get them to come to us, you could catch them by surprise and clobber them," she offered.

"I've heard _you're_ pretty dangerous with a flashlight," he retorted.

She snorted softly. "But a terrible judge of character."

Her eyes fell on the wall, and Brandon followed her gaze to a fire extinguisher.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

Jazz grinned and reached to pull the extinguisher off of the wall. "Doesn't martial arts have something to do with being a master of your environment?"

"I think that's how it goes."

"Let's attract some attention."

* * *

><p>Jazz bit her lip nervously while she waited for Brandon to activate the fire extinguisher, staying against the wall per his instructions. Both her arms came up protectively as Brandon released the extinguisher's load and darted out of the way too.<p>

Seconds passed before the two men came rushing out of the next room. Jazz smirked as she watched Brandon head-butt one of them across the hall, but she didn't have the chance to see how it ended. She was distracted by the third scientist who was dashing toward them from another direction of the hall.

Jazz was frozen, even as she told herself to _do _something. The young woman stepped back to block the entrance into the room, but cringed as the man's fists came up threateningly. She fell back a couple of feet into the room as he pressed in so close that she felt the wind of his approach. The man wasn't able to carry the blow out as Brandon yanked him around by the collar, and literally threw him.

"Thanks, Punk," she said with a nervous laugh. "I was starting to wonder about you."

He shook his head again. "We need to hurry. Will you help me tie them up?"

"Uh…sure."

Jazz assisted him in getting the men out of the way this time, feeling her own urgency increase. She felt an intense wave of goose bumps as she entered the room again and took a slower look around. When the table on which the men had been working came into view, she drew her phone to call Donatello.

Her breath quickened as she mutely stared at the device and the unfamiliar components surrounding it. "This can't be good." She dialed the purple-masked turtle and swallowed deeply. "Donny, I don't know what you expect me to do with this thing," Jazz said shakily.

"I've been looking up underground military information on North Korean weapons over the last few minutes, but I need to _see_ it, Jazz. Can you switch to Brandon's phone? It has a video feature."

"Yeah, okay." Jazz hung up and looked at Brandon. "I need your phone."

"My phone?"

"I have to use the video."

"I don't know how to work it."

"I'll figure it out," she reassured him.

Brandon handed the phone over. "I'm going to watch the door, all right? I'm only a few steps away."

Jazz took a few moments to study the settings on the video feature, and called Donatello back. "You there, Donny?"

"I'm here. Let me see it, Jazz."

She lowered the phone over the table and held it steady so the picture wouldn't distort. "I don't know about this, Don."

"Jazz, don't be afraid to touch it. It doesn't appear to be armed, does it?"

"No, I don't…I don't think so."

"This type of weapon usually requires a special chemical reaction to detonate, Jazz. It's not going to explode spontaneously. I need you to get the panel open so we can figure out what we're dealing with."

"Donny, this is crazy."

"I know it is. But you're there, and I'm not. You have to do this."

Jazz heaved a giant breath as she laid a hand on the panel and carefully lifted it. "Okay, Genius. You're going to have to walk me through this."


	87. One on One

***And so it comes to this, the most important duel of my "career". They always feel a little awkward to write, simply because the real-life maneuvers happen so much _faster_ than it takes to actually read them. I hope it was worth the wait.**

* * *

><p>Leonardo was quick to pursue Takashi, but he didn't need to be. The man deliberately waited for him by the exit to the staircase, as if he wanted to make sure that the turtle was following him. The moment they made eye contact again, Takashi bolted through the door.<p>

Leonardo sprinted down the hallway after him. He couldn't see Takashi when he entered the stairwell, but he could hear the man's footsteps rapidly ascending. Adrenaline coursed through his veins anew as he chased the man up the stairs, casting away concern of a trap or his brothers getting into trouble. _They'll take care of each other; they have to. I've got no option except to deal with Takashi myself._

Leonardo focused on the sounds of his quarry's persistent climbing. He could tell they were probably nearing the top of the building. Sure enough, when he'd run up the last flight of stairs, all he found was an empty walkway leading to another door.

He touched the knob as if it could be part of a trick, and swung the door open. Leonardo's hand quivered over the hilt of one of his katana as he stepped out onto the roof and looked around. Though he was deadly with a _pair_ of blades, the irony existed that pinpointing his accuracy on one katana was more effective against a gifted opponent.

He spotted Takashi a couple of yards out from him, backing slowly away.

"We had an agreement, Leonardo," he said more mildly than the turtle would have expected.

"You had no intention of honoring it fairly," Leonardo said coolly. "Every action you've ever taken has proven otherwise. You leave me no choice."

"No choice for what, Leonardo? You could not finish me before. Do you intend to pick up where you left off?" The man sneered.

"I _could_ have finished you," he said sharply. "Part of me wishes that I had. So many things would never have happened, and hundreds of people would still be alive."

"You care _far_ too much for lives that don't concern you, Leonardo. It's going to be your death one of these days," Takashi said meaningfully.

"It might be," the turtle allowed. "But not tonight."

He chose not to advance yet as the warrior raised his katana, angling it over his head. Leonardo drew a blade without making a sound, executing the signal for the beginning of the fight. He watched Takashi closely as the man moved cautiously, and the turtle carefully advanced too. Every motion was deliberate, almost as if they were tiptoeing around one another.

He sensed the _snap_ of action in Takashi's frame an instant before the man leapt, swiping his katana in the direction of Leonardo's chest. He caught the man's weapon on the flat edge of his blade, and exchanged two strikes with him before Takashi attempted to land a front kick.

Leonardo rotated his body out of reach, shifting his momentum effortlessly. As the man added a second kick to the combination Leo swerved again, bringing his arm parallel with Takashi's striking leg. The turtle's hand came down in a chopping motion to block his attack, and he managed to spin his opponent around so that his back was facing him.

Leonardo nearly had an arm around his throat before the man threw his head backwards and cracked him in the chin. Takashi whirled around as Leo corrected his stance, and their blades met in another powerful clash, then separated when the man withdrew.

Takashi's respite was short-lived. He lunged toward the turtle again, almost as quickly as he'd retreated. Leonardo stepped out of his striking range, forcing the man to pursue him. Takashi's blade picked up speed, slashing so accurately that Leonardo was forced to spin around him to avoid the maneuver.

Leonardo brought his blade into the position to parry as he made the blind turn, catching Takashi's katana at just the right moment. Their weapons locked with one another for a couple of seconds, and the blue-masked turtle stared into the face of his enemy. He sensed that he was stronger than Takashi, but the man's hellish determination was nothing to take for granted.

Leonardo preferred to stay locked until his opponent's arm gave out, but Takashi wasn't going to make it that easy. While he watched, the man pivoted on his leg and performed a one-handed side flip out of the turtle's reach, then resumed his ready stance.

Leonardo aggressively pursued him, arcing his blade toward Takashi's hand with the intention of disarming him. The man parried, and they exchanged another three katana strikes before their blades locked up to the side, so that they ended up running into each other.

Takashi dropped low to disengage his katana, and attempted an upward thrust on the turtle's neck. Leonardo blocked the blow and was mid-spin when Takashi's foot suddenly connected with his ankle, throwing off his compromised center of gravity. Leonardo went down on one knee, but still managed to parry the next strike that the man had intended for his throat.

Leonardo used his elbow as a lever against the ground as he flipped over backwards, lunging to his feet in a seamless transition he'd performed too many times to count. He gave the man a grim smile as he realized Takashi's even keel was faltering. _Not feeling so calm now, are you?_

He spun his blade as his enemy pressed forward with another attack, and once again found himself forced to rely more on instinct than on other senses. Takashi wasn't laying an obvious pattern that Leonardo could discern with his conscious mind, but his reflexes were capable of picking up the slack.

As Takashi's blade swung toward his mid-section, Leonardo dropped to the ground and used his arm like an anchor to maintain his balance as he swept a leg against the man's knees. As his opponent fell, Leonardo used both arms to propel himself out of the maneuver, nearly performing a handstand before landing back on his feet.

The man exploded from the roof as if he'd lost none of his energy, and his knee collided with Leonardo's gut with all the force of a sledgehammer. As the turtle stumbled backwards, Takashi's fist connected a direct blow between his eyes. Leonardo felt them tearing in a flash, and brought his blade up almost blindly to block the man's katana.

Leonardo squinted through blurry eyes to parry two more strikes, and managed to lock his katana with Takashi's once more. At the moment that the warrior's blade was contained, the turtle's palm shot out to hit the bridge of Takashi's nose.

The man's sword arm faltered as he staggered, and Leonardo took the opportunity to rub his watering eyes. Takashi recovered faster than he'd hoped he would, with some kind of supernatural power that had to be granted by the devil himself.

"You know that your friends were unsuccessful, don't you?" Takashi challenged scornfully. "I already received a call from my men at Indian Point. They have them contained. The plan _will_ go forward. There is nothing you can do to stop it, or to help your loved ones. Except…"

"Except what?" Leo snapped. "You want me to surrender to you? You don't actually expect me to do that."

"No, I can see that your stubbornness transcends all reason. Of course, if you _were_ to surrender, I could guarantee the lives of your friends. I may even be willing to throw your pathetic city into the deal."

The blue-masked turtle shook his head. "You lie, Takashi. You'll _never_ stop. Even if I give in to you, there's nothing to prevent you from killing the others, or carrying out whatever attack you have planned using the Power Plant. I'm not going to bow to you, old man. You're just going to have to beat me the old-fashioned way."

Takashi's smile was dark, and Leonardo felt nowhere close to being as in control as he'd tried to sound. The thought of his friends in very real danger was like receiving another devastating blow to the gut, and it threatened to distract him. _No, it's not over. He hasn't won. He isn't going to._

Leonardo lunged toward Takashi with a consuming desire to take him down, once and for all. Anger erupted in a white hot glare as he fought to get a katana through the man's defenses. Instinct fell to the side as passionate fury drove him to bring an end to the battle.

He didn't recognize Takashi's feint until he saw a katana arcing toward his neck, and by then there wasn't enough time to bring his own blade into parrying position. Leonardo jerked backwards and brought up his right leg to create distance between himself and the man.

His foot never made contact with Takashi. Instead he felt a burning pain in his thigh that could only indicate that the man's blade had impaled him. Leonardo switched the majority of his weight onto his left leg, faking in one direction and spinning in the other as he resumed a proper fighting stance.

He didn't feel any further pain from the injury; there wasn't time to deal with it yet. Instead he blocked the downward slash of Takashi's katana, and stepped out of another fist strike that laid a glancing blow to his jaw.

Leonardo took a deep breath to steady himself and focus on the art of the movement, rather than the hot anger that had nearly driven him mad. He bent his legs to even out his balance and waited with raised blade for Takashi to attack him again.

As the man made another move on the turtle's throat, Leonardo stopped his katana with a jarring block, and struck Takashi's wrist with the tip of his blade. In the split second that the man was distracted by the injury, Leonardo saw an opening in his enemy's stance and the vulnerability of his neck.

Without taking the time to question it Leonardo followed his instinct and his blade made contact with his assailant's neck. The turtle's eyes faltered to the rooftop as Takashi fell forward on his knees. His gaze barely lingered for more than a second on the man's mutilated frame, as emotion washed over him like an immense ocean tide.

It took Leonardo a moment to realize that he was heaving for breath from the exertion of the battle, and then to feel the intense relief that _this_ fight, at least, was over. He cast one more look at Takashi's broken form before turning to leave.

As he swiveled on his heel, the pain in his thigh quickly occurred to him again. _Shell, how could I forget…_The thought trailed off as he looked down, and realized the _amount_ of blood he was losing. _Oh no. Oh _crap_. I have to get down from here, fast._

He sheathed his blade with a grimace, and hobbled for the exit door as quickly as he could. Pain didn't matter now. As he stumbled through the doorframe, he remembered that the electronic disruptor on his belt was still armed. He fumbled clumsily to turn off the device as he leaned his other arm against the stair railing.

Leonardo stopped on a landing to call Greg, and couldn't get through to the man. _Please be all right. We'll get you out of there, but we need time to get to Indian Point. Got to catch up with the others first, then we can regroup and get back on the road. We've come too far to lose anybody now._

He forced himself to start descending again, and had made it two more flights before he felt like he was losing his grip on the railing. _I have to catch my breath. I need a few seconds, or I'm going to collapse completely. Too dizzy._

Leonardo sank to one of the steps and leaned back unsteadily as darkness tugged at the back of his mind. His glance fell on his injured thigh once more, and in the haze that was invading he couldn't help wondering why he was bleeding so much.


	88. Finished

Raphael spun his sai expertly as he surveyed the carnage in the room with satisfaction. He was tempted to start restraining men, but he was also concerned that more of the warriors could be lurking, and he wanted to find Leonardo. Michelangelo's arm landed on his shoulder, and he glanced over at his youngest brother.

"Not a bad night's work, huh, Bro?" Mike's Cheshire grin was in full force.

"We ain't outta here yet, Mikey. We've gotta take a look around for any others, and we need to figure out where Leo got to with Takashi."

Katherine approached from his right side. "I tried to call Leo just now, and he didn't answer. What's our first move? Scout for more warriors on this floor, or go after your brother?"

"We'll scout for more guys _while_ we're searching for Leo." Raphael put the emphasis on finding the blue-masked turtle. _He's got to be okay. Takashi didn't have anything on his shell last time. Just the same, I don't like not knowing where he is._

"All right, let's go," he barked, heading for the door. Raphael cast the bronze-haired woman a begrudging smile as she fell into step behind him, and Mike brought up the rear. "You done good," he told her.

"What'd you expect?" she returned.

"I dunno. You're the one who likes to hide your skills and only save 'em for your brother."

"Raph, if you'd ever _asked_ me to come give you a run for your money, I would have been happy to oblige you."

The red-masked turtle chuckled under his breath. "Maybe we'll just have to do that sometime. I'm always itching for a new challenge." He instantly grew more serious at the sight of five men waiting for them near the dead end of the hallway, and another three on the side closest to the exit door.

"Great – leftovers!" Raphael announced. He launched at the three that appeared ready to run for the stairwell, leaving Michelangelo and Katherine to deal with the others. The red-masked turtle quickly picked up momentum as he strode toward the men, but he was surprised when they backed up without any attempt to engage him.

"What the shell? Are you guys statues or warriors? It's three against one. 'Course, you still don't have a shot in—"He didn't finish the statement as the men retreated from him further into the adjoining room. Raphael's brow furrowed as he pursued them. "There's nowhere to go, scum. You may as well end it like men."

The warriors staggered themselves on the other side of the room, and Raphael shrugged. "I can come get ya if that's what you want." He'd no sooner taken three steps across the space, than he felt goose bumps rising on his neck, with the accompanying sensation that someone was behind him.

Raphael immediately spun to the right, just as small report of pain lit through his shoulder. He barely had time to wonder what had hit him, when he laid eyes on his attacker with a gasp. The fact that a bloodied Yukiko could be standing before him was too impossible for imagination, yet she was _there_.

"Holy shell, Woman; how many lives do you _have_?"

She smiled. "One more than you are about to," Yukiko replied calmly.

"If you want _another_ go at it, that's fine with me," he retorted.

"I'd prefer you didn't move at all."

Raphael wasn't sure what she meant by that. He could see that she was carrying her weapon of choice, but she'd yet to draw the naginata. It looked like Yukiko was holding something smaller in her hand, but he couldn't see what it was. He was still standing tensed waiting for her to do something when a current leaped through his body as if it had a life of its own.

The red-masked turtle was leveled by the shock, and discovered that despite the pain of the charge, he couldn't make a sound. The strange sensation ceased long enough for him to question where it had come from, before it flashed through his nerves a second time. Raphael felt his muscles constricting so tightly it almost seemed like they could snap. He hardly felt the pressure of Yukiko's foot as she rolled him off his plastron.

"If my world ends tonight, demon, then my last wish is to take you with me," she said coolly. "It is fitting after all this time that one of us must _finally_ kill the other. We have made so many attempts."

He couldn't track her movement as she walked around him, but he heard the sound of her drawing her weapon.

"It would have been easy to finish you the first time, demon, alone in that house. But I will admit that I have enjoyed the challenge you offer. It is a rare thing that I have failed to kill someone that I intended to. That will no longer haunt me at least, and I will not be forced to see your face in my dreams. I have conquered you, once and for all."

_By _cheating_, you witch! _The tingling in his muscles was still so pronounced that they wouldn't cooperate with his mind's urging to release. _Keep talking, lady, maybe—_

"I would rather savor it, but I fear I have more demon spawn left to kill."

Yukiko's smile was colder than any winter's day he'd ever experienced, but the bang of the door completely wiped it off her face. The woman half-spun, jerking her naginata toward his throat at the same time. The figure at the door was half a beat faster. Before her blade could make contact with his neck, a scythe had been lodged in her temple.

The woman's body convulsed as she landed on Raphael's legs, and he grunted distastefully. The realization that he'd _made_ a sound dawned on him quickly. His muscles still felt tight, but he found that he could move his fingers, and then his whole hand. He concentrated on trying out other limbs while he listened to the sound of the last of the men being dealt with.

As Raphael rolled his right shoulder, his gaze fell on the initial source of the pain. He was puzzled by the metal disc that appeared to be embedded in his skin. His left arm flopped as he lifted it and tried to reach the odd device. At that moment he felt his phone vibrate, but he was helpless to answer it.

"_Raph!_" Michelangelo was at his side as he managed to get a finger on the disc. "Are you okay?"

"Get the chick _off_ of me," he ordered.

The orange-masked turtle quickly cast the woman aside. "How are you hurt? Can you move?"

"Sorta. I don't know what she did; had to be some kind of stun weapon. Can you get this thing off my arm?"

His youngest brother pried at the disc, but it didn't give easily. He ended up drawing a knife blade from his side. "Hold up, Bro. Lemme try it this way." Mike carefully wedged the tip of the knife under the metal, and slowly worked it further around the side until the disc loosened.

"Shell, that hurt," Raphael muttered, finding that he could stretch his arms more easily. "Must have been short-acting though."

"Your shell probably absorbed some of it too, like with a taser," Mike pointed out. "Do you think you can get up?"

"Maybe."

Michelangelo got to his feet and offered him a hand. Raphael felt like he had massive cramps running through both legs, but stomping in one place provided a little relief.

"I'm all right," he assured Mike.

His brother finally smiled. "Sorry for horning in Yukiko, Raphy. I know you had it under control and all. I just can't stand not being invited to a party."

Raphael rolled his eyes as he hooked an arm around Mike's neck. "Thanks for looking out."

"That's what we do, isn't it?"

Raphael nodded, looking around for a nonexistent Katherine. "Let's try and get moving again." His stride was a little unsteady, but he worked out more of the tightness as he walked across the room. When the woman darted back through the doorway, however, he was still so wound up from the ambush that he jumped.

"We have to get to Leo!" she exclaimed. "His implant is displaying signs of serious trauma!"

The bottom dropped out from Raphael's heart as he forced one foot in front of the other. "What's going on, Kat? How'd you—"

"I just hung up with Donny! He tried to reach you first, but—"

"_Where_ is he?" Raphael was on the verge of exploding.

"Donny said that we need to get higher, Raph; he's not that far away!"

Raphael immediately picked up speed that his legs didn't feel capable of supporting yet, and used the wall to help keep his balance on the way to the exit door.

Mike put an arm around him. "Careful, Raph; we'll get there."

"We don't have _time_ to be careful!" he shot back. "We've gotta get upstairs!"

Michelangelo nodded without another word, but stayed pressed close behind him. Raphael gripped the railing in the stairwell as hard as he could, holding on for all he was worth as he forced himself to climb. _C'mon, Leo, be all right. You _have_ to be okay._

He went up two flights using all the effort he felt like he had left, heaving slightly as he turned the corner to begin ascending another set. Raphael stopped with a jolt when he found the blue-masked turtle sprawled at the bottom of the next staircase, surrounded by a lot more blood than he was comfortable seeing.

"Leo, _no_! No, Leo!" Raphael cried helplessly as he crashed to his knees beside him. Carefully he turned his brother over, praying to find him breathing. As he cradled a hand under Leonardo's head, the older turtle opened dark eyes. His gaze was glassy, but it seemed to be focused on him.

Raphael felt like crying. He'd never been one for breaking down in front of people, but he couldn't _stop_ the tears from welling up either. "Shell, Leo, don't you _ever_ scare me like that."

"Raph, give us some space!" Katherine urged.

He looked back to see that the woman had stripped off her sweatshirt, and Mike was helping her cut it. Raphael swallowed as he looked down at Leonardo's leg, which appeared to be the source of all the blood loss.

"We've got to get him to Doc," Raphael insisted.

"We need to bind it _here_," Kat replied. "He can't afford to bleed out all the way back downstairs. It looks like his femoral artery was nicked."

"Quikclot," Mike spoke up, holding up two packages from his belt.

Raphael rapidly searched his side and came up with a couple more of applications of the hemostatic agent to add to the pile. "Use the Quikclot first, and then bind strips on top of it," he recited from memory. He allowed Mike and Katherine to deal with Leonardo's leg, and focused on trying to keep his brother awake.

"Bro," Raphael said sharply as something occurred to him. "Where's Takashi?"

"He's dead," Leo said softly.

"Are you _sure_?"

"Unless he can find some way to live without a head." His voice rose slightly.

"Nah, seriously?"

His brother didn't answer him right away. "He said they caught the others at the Plant."

Raphael swore strongly. "We've gotta get out there, but we need to take you to the docs first."

"Uh huh." Leonardo sounded more dazed as he rested his head completely in Raphael's grasp.

"Hey, you're gonna stay with me, aren't you, Fearless?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Raph," he mumbled.

"Okay. I'm gonna hold you to that."

When Leonardo fell silent, the red-masked turtle reached for his phone to call Greg. He couldn't get through to his friend and cursed again, then tried Tim's phone. It rang three times before the man picked up.

"Make it fast," Timothy whispered.

"What's going _on_ out there?" Raphael demanded.

"Greg and Kelley were taken, but we have a plan. It may involve using the Battleshell to its fullest capacity again."

"Blow those mother brothers away if you have to, Tim!"

"We're still figuring things out. What's happening there?"

"Takashi's dead, Yukiko's dead, and everybody else is down for the most part. We haven't been able to check the whole place. Leo's hurt, so we gotta deal with that first."

"Is it bad?"

"Don't know," Raphael said vaguely. "But he told me he ain't going nowhere, and Leonardo keeps his promises. I'm taking his word for it."


	89. Insanity

"Donny, I can't do this!" Marcus said shakily. "I don't know what I'm doing!"

"Marc, I want you to take a deep breath, okay?" Donatello said calmly. "Now I know you didn't sign up for any of this, but you're the only one available to handle the Battleshell. I would never ask you to risk your life—"

"That's not what I mean, Don! You have to realize that I'll do whatever it takes to help the others, but I don't think I'm _capable_ of handling these guns. I've never used anything like it."

"It isn't as difficult as you think it is."

"Raph told me that the manual for this thing is over 200 hundred pages!"

"That's the extended version, and I'm going to condense it for you. I'll walk you through setting things up, and all you need to do is follow my instructions. I wouldn't say you could do it if I didn't think you could."

"Oh my word…" Marcus groaned. "I chose the wrong team to tail tonight."

Donatello fought down a chuckle in spite of the circumstances. "I'd love to trade places with you, Marc, I really would. I'm so sorry about this."

"Don't be – it's just a good thing the 'loose cannons' brought the Battleshell, or this plan would be up a creek without a paddle."

"Sit tight for a couple more minutes, okay? I'm going to check in with Tim and Sayuri, and I'll call you back," Don told him.

"You're not going to leave me hanging?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Marc. I need to make a couple more calls, and find out where Brandon and Jazz are too."

"I hope it was necessary for them to be in there, Donny. It seems like an awful risk for both of them," Marcus complained.

_It was more necessary than you realize yet, _Don thought inwardly. "We'll get into that later. I'll call you back."

Donatello hung up with Marcus and took a shuddering breath as he focused on Jenna. "I don't like this," he said. "Making Marc a distraction…if something goes wrong, he's dead."

"Way to inspire some confidence, Donny," she replied.

The purple-masked turtle sighed. "Not _funny_, Jen. This is absurd. He shouldn't be in this position at all, let alone by _himself_. It's too dangerous!"

The young woman rested a hand on his arm. "It's the way it is, Donny. It's frustrating, but he's the one who's there. All you can do is help him and the others to the best of your ability. You still have an impact."

"It's not about me making an impact, Jen. I'm about to send Marc off to battle using weapons he's never laid hands on!"

"You didn't send him, Don, no more than you sent any of them. Calm down, and call the others like you told Marc you were going to."

Donatello exhaled deeply. "Yeah. You're right." He hit Timothy's speed-dial without another word. "Are you still okay out there?"

"Yes," Tim answered quietly. "But we can't move on the building yet. There's no way to tell how many are close by. We can't go barging in on them, but we're not just going to leave Greg and Kelley behind either." The man sounded irritated.

"Tim, Marc is close to the gate with the Battleshell, and he's prepared to do what he has to."

"That's insane, Donny! Almost as crazy as Brandon and Jazz being out there somewhere."

"It's not a perfect situation, but we have to work with what we've got." Donny heard the call waiting clicking on him. "Hold up where you are for a little longer, and I'll let you know what's going on."

He switched over to the next line, expecting it to be Marcus. "I'm working out details with Tim, Marc—"

"Don, it's me," Brandon cut in. "Can you help us find the others?"

"Uh…I could try, but I don't have a good lay-out of the property itself. Tim and Sayuri had to hole up out of the way."

"I just think we'd be better off if we could regroup, especially since Jazz and I aren't armed."

"No," the turtle said suddenly. "_You_ two need to stay the shell out of the way. We're planning the raid to get Greg and Kelley back, and Marcus is about to create a distraction to draw men off the building."

"Do you understand how ridiculous that sounds?"

"_Yes_, I do," Donatello said sharply. "But you guys can't afford to get caught with those components you're carrying!"

Brandon drew a nervous breath. "I know. Okay, Donny. We'll stay put until you say so."

"Really? You're going to do what someone says?"

"Yes. Don't come down on me too hard, okay? We're the ones who _found _the weapon."

Donatello rolled his eyes. "We won't get into it right now. Just promise me that you'll stay hidden."

"On my honor, Don."

"Good. I'll call you back when it's safe to move. If you hear some big guns go off, don't be afraid."

"We'll do our best."

The turtle hung up and called Marcus back. "Are you ready for a crash course on the weapons system?"

"It doesn't sound like I have a choice," Marc said glibly. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be. What the heck am I supposed to do with all these buttons?"

* * *

><p>Sayuri adjusted the earpiece of the radio she'd swiped off a lone man they'd jumped a few minutes prior. She and Timothy had done their best to stay out of sight, merely because they were the only ones who could get to the others. The Asian woman was upset that they'd split up at all, but even more so because Greg and Kelley had been captured.<p>

Sayuri hated waiting in the dark for something to happen. She wanted to find their friends before the Akiudo had the chance to harm them badly or kill them. The woman turned up the volume to listen over the radio as the Japanese chatter increased. She held her breath as though they would be able to tell she was listening on the line.

"_…I am going out to confirm a visual for myself. He swore it is the same vehicle,_"someone was saying.

"_We already received word from Takashi-sama that the Shitenno have invaded the building in New York City_."

"_That does not mean we aren't in trouble here too! There are more enemies out there, and we have yet to locate them_. _That alone gives me reason for concern_!"

Sayuri looked over at Tim. "It sounds like the van has been spotted. I think it is almost time to move, Timothy-san."

The man nodded grimly. "We have to get back in there. I don't know if Donny was going to call us again, or-"

Sayuri held up a hand to stop him as a panicked transmission over the radio made her smile, until she thought of Marcus behind the wheel. _I pray that he is all right. He has a formidable weapon in his hands, if he can use it correctly._

She took off the earpiece so that she could listen to their surroundings more closely, and peered out of hiding. "We may not have very much time to do this," Sayuri murmured. "Perhaps we should start now, so that we will be in better position once the men are out of the way."

Timothy nodded his agreement, slipping the strap of his rifle back over his shoulder. Sayuri felt a pang of regret as they emerged into the shadows to walk back to the unit containing the fuel pools. Donatello had already communicated the results of the raid on the ghostscraper. She was relieved that they were untouched with the exception of Leonardo, but she was sorry that she hadn't been there to help deal with the Akiudo. _This was not about you, _she chided herself. _It still isn't. Your loved ones are yet in danger._

Sayuri squinted as she noticed small flashes in the distance, and heard the sound of rifles firing. Her breath caught in her throat as she hesitated. "It has begun, Timothy-san."

The man reached for his belt to retrieve a pair of Donatello's digital binoculars. "Yes. It has. Then we need to pick up the pace too."

The Asian woman shoved the earpiece for the radio back on and listened to the ensuing mad dash of men that were hurrying to join the fray out near the main gate. "This is our best chance," she said. "Are you ready to _run_?"

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him nod, and they took off together in the direction of the building where they'd first been spotted. Donatello had assured them that Greg's signal had never strayed far from where disaster had struck.

_He and Kelley must be together, and they are going to be all right, _she tried to think positively, and looked over her shoulder toward the gate. "I expected the guns to sound louder," she told him.

"He's not using the missiles yet," Tim said knowingly. "That sounds smaller, more like machine gunfire. If I had to guess, he's probably only trying to keep them busy."

"I hope he won't hesitate to actually shoot someone if he has to," she murmured.

Sayuri spun and flattened against the side of a compressor as she heard someone running. She and Tim waited while three men dashed by, probably on their way to the gate with the rest. The Asian woman barely gave the warriors time to get out sight before _she_ started running again.

With great trepidation they ventured inside the original building. The deep pools built into the bedrock were illuminated this time, and Sayuri shook her head at the tin ceiling that felt entirely too flimsy. _They protect some things well, and others so poorly. There is little reason in any of it. _She felt naked and exposed as they hurried across the large room, but she was past the point of caring. Only now did she turn the volume knob down on the radio in order to focus on where they were. _We are coming, Greg-chan._

Sayuri held her service weapon high in anticipation of meeting someone else. Emotion threatened in the back of her mind as she edged along the wall. The years of investigations and the entire journey from the beginning with the Akiudo was coming back at a very inopportune moment.

She swallowed as much of the emotion as she could. _I already laid them to rest once, when we thought they were finished on Yonaguni. This is the real end for the criminals, but we have to make certain that it is _not _the end for Greg or Kelley._

She heard someone coming rapidly down a hallway they'd were approaching, and backed up against the corner on the other side to avoid being seen immediately. As the man was nearly on top of them she was about to move, when her companion reacted first.

Timothy threw out his leg to trip the Asian mid-stride as he raced around the corner, and stomped his foot down on the warrior's gun to pin it to the ground. He swung the butt of his rifle around like a club on the stranger's head.

Sayuri nodded approvingly as she glanced down the corridor. "There's another at the opposite end, standing outside a door. We may have a point of entry."

"Let's get his attention," Tim suggested.

She nodded once more, and he lifted the downed warrior partially off the ground so that he could heave him a couple of feet across the open hallway. Sayuri bit her lip to conceal a smile as she heard the shout of the remaining man.

As his footsteps neared she motioned to Tim, and they burst around the corner with guns drawn. The man stared at them dumbly for an instant, with his own weapon still in hand.

"_Put it down, and we will neither kill you nor let the Shitenno touch you_," Sayuri proclaimed.

The man looked back and forth between them uncertainly.

"_You have only to look outside, and you will know that they have come,_" she bluffed.

"_I do not fear death,_" he returned, his voice shaking slightly.

"_I should think not; but the Shitenno?_" she challenged. "_They are another matter entirely._"

The war taking place in his mind was clear from the anguished look in his dark eyes. The barrel of his rifle lowered, though he didn't release it completely. Timothy lunged forward and wrenched the gun from the indecisive man's hands.

The warrior backpedaled, holding out his arms plaintively. "_Mercy! Do not let the demons destroy me_."

"_Take us to our friends_," Sayuri demanded. "_Keep your hands in plain sight. Now walk_!"

The man stumbled back towards the door that he'd been positioned by. A loud explosion reverberated from outside the building, causing Sayuri to jerk tensely. Their "captive" covered his head with his hands as he fell to his knees.

"_It is over. It is over and we are all going to die! Takashi will force them to trigger—_"

"_Takashi is dead,_" Sayuri informed him. "_You will receive no further orders from him; only from myself. If our friends are in one piece, then we can remain friendly. Otherwise, you are in grave danger indeed._"

"_We did not harm them! The stun only caused temporary paralysis! It was meant for the demons; Takashi wanted to catch them all…_"

"_And you see where that plan has gotten you? Pick up your feet, fool_."

The man obediently straightened his legs out underneath him and kept going. Sayuri still didn't trust the warrior, and kept her handgun against his head the entire time as he led them into another interior room.

In the faint light from the hall she could see both missing men chained against the wall and released a massive sigh of relief.

"It's about time," Greg said dryly, as though he wasn't surprised to see her. "What took you so long?"


	90. Sparks

Brandon looked Jazz's direction, marveling at the death grip she had on the duffle bag they'd taken from the same "lab" where they'd found the weapon. "I really _could_ carry that for you," he offered again.

"Are you out of your mind? No. I need your hands free to protect _me_ in case those Asians find us."

"They're pretty well occupied at the moment, so—" Brandon's sentence was interrupted by the brilliance of an explosion in the distance. "And we have a missile! Man, I wish I'd seen it up close."

Jazz shook her head. "Why would you wanna _see_ it? It was bad enough _hearing_ it last time."

"It'd be bad if _they_ had the bigger guns," Brandon returned. "Donny's gotta be disappointed all over again."

"All of you have a screw loose, do you know that? But I'm out here with you, so what does that say about me?"

Brandon started to speak, `but then changed his mind. He took a deep breath and hesitated, questioning the impulse. _It's not the time or place, but in all honesty, I might not get another chance, _he managed to reason with himself

He reached for the strap of the bag she was holding, and pried it out of her fingers. Confusion registered in her eyes as he braced an arm behind her back.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Without a word he bent to the young woman's level and kissed her. Whatever shock he'd induced didn't last long, as she reciprocated with more fervor than he could have anticipated. The chilly night air around them became non-existent as Jazz laced her hands around his neck.

It took the report of another missile blast to bring Brandon back to his senses, and to the realization that they were still in terrible danger. It looked like Jazz wanted to say something, but she simply stared at him instead, as though caught under a spell of sudden silence.

"You didn't have to come with me," he said breathlessly. "You never _had_ to stay underground. The fact that you did proves what an amazing person you are."

Something snapped in her expression and Jazz's familiar smirk returned. "I think it proves I'm just as crazy as the rest of you."

"You _are _the one who was playing inside of a thermonuclear weapon."

"There's that too, huh? I guess the sky is the limit on insanity tonight." Her smiled faded as she cocked her head to one side. "Do you hear something?"

Brandon listened and was sure that he _did_; a sound like a rumble of thunder that was gradually growing louder. His breath caught in his chest as he grabbed Jazz by the arm and darted backward around the opposite side of the kiosk they'd been taking refuge beside.

"What is it?" she demanded.

"I don't know," he returned. "But it sounds like it's coming our way! I didn't see anything."

Brandon pushed her protectively against the wall of the small booth and craned his neck around the side for another look. He wished that he _still_ couldn't see anything. What appeared to be dozens of men were running, nearly tripping over each other in their haste. _They know we're here, _was his first thought. _We're finished!_

Brandon swore under his breath as he jammed his back up against the hidden side of the booth. "I'm sorry I got you into this, Jazz. I'm sorry I was so stubborn."

Her head leaned against his shoulder and he extended an arm to draw her close.

"Well…at least we saved a bunch of people, right?" she replied tightly. "If that's not worth being nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize, I don't know what is."

He snorted, though part of him felt like crying.

"I'd do it again, Brandon," she said more seriously. "_All_ of it."

He held her eye contact for a couple of meaningful seconds. "I wouldn't change it either."

Jazz buried herself against his chest as the sound of running overtook them, and Brandon almost closed his eyes so that he wouldn't have to see the small army bearing down on them. He resisted the brief temptation, and was rewarded by the sight of men dashing _past_ the kiosk. _What the…_

He stared aghast while the warriors fought for the lead position, traveling on a path that seemed to align with the Hudson river.

"What are they doing?" Jazz asked, standing up straight. "Brandon, where are they _going_?"

"They're retreating," he said in disbelief. "I think the bigger guns won!"

"Retreating where?"

"They must have had a plan to escape by way of the river. I haven't seen any other vehicles around here."

"Do we _want _them to get away?"

"_No_," Brandon said quickly. "C'mon, we have to get out of here, fast!"

"But those men—"

"We'll contact the authorities to hunt them down the minute we get off the property."

The answer appeared to satisfy Jazz, and she drew the duffle bag back over her shoulder. "Then let's go before I have a nervous breakdown."

Brandon hovered close behind her as they sprinted toward the main gate, not bothering to wait for Donny's phone call despite instructions. He was comforted in not hearing more gunfire, and kept his eyes out for any sign of headlights.

Before they'd crossed half the distance to reach the gate, Brandon saw rapidly approaching high beams and pulled Jazz up short with him. He waved his arms to flag the van down, and the Battleshell came to a screeching halt at the same time that the driver's side window came down.

"_Get in!_" Marcus commanded fiercely, jerking his hand to indicate behind him.

The back door flew open as Brandon and Jazz approached, and Greg's head immediately ducked out.

"Oh, thank God." The sandy-haired man breathed heavily as if he hadn't had any air in ages. "In, in!" he urged.

Brandon yanked his way up into the van and reached his arm to assist the young woman. "They're escaping using the Hudson!" he barked. "We have to get out of here and call it in before they get away completely!"

Kelley nodded shakily. "We have to pick up my car too. With the noise of that 'distraction', I'd be surprised if the authorities weren't already alerted."

"Are you guys okay?" Timothy pressed as the van backed up and made a clear U-turn.

Brandon glanced at Jazz, who was still clutching the duffle bag. "Yeah, we're fine," he returned a beat later.

"_Good_," Greg said pointedly. "I wouldn't want you to be in bad health before I kill you! What were you _doing_ out there?"

The bronze-haired man exchanged another look with Jazz.

The young woman shrugged nonchalantly. "We discovered and disarmed the thermonuclear weapon."

The statement was so calm that no one appeared to believe it at first.

"Y…You what?" Kelley sputtered.

"_You're_ the one who disarmed it," Brandon told Jazz.

"With Donny's help," she clarified further. "I didn't even wanna touch the thing at first."

"Hold the phone!" Greg raised his voice. "Are you being for real?"

"This was never about the spent fuel pools, not really," Jazz explained. "Donny thinks the gang highlighted their vulnerability in order to get the Plant shut down. They had much bigger fish to fry. We found schematics in the same lab where the weapon had been worked on, and figured out a little bit from the models.

"Don believes they planned to take advantage of the plutonium source in the reactor. They wanted to force a melt down of sorts to um….enhance the effects of the thermonuclear device. He could only find a single reference in his research to technology that ties the two reactions together that way.

"He said that the resulting energy would probably have been 100 times greater than the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima, even though the weapon itself couldn't have been more than fifty pounds."

Brandon couldn't help being amused by the stunned expressions of the others.

"You…disabled a nuclear weapon?" Sayuri said uncertainly, as though she _still_ couldn't accept it.

"It wasn't technically armed yet," Jazz said. "I got inside, and Donatello walked me through the process on video chat. He had me remove the fuse components, because they're responsible for delivering the precise electrical signals to the detonators. The chemical explosives won't be triggered without them.

"He had me take the reflectors too, just in case someone had extra fuses. Apparently they have something to do with setting off the second stage of the chemical reaction. I also cut some important looking wires, but I did that on my own." Jazz dropped the duffle bag on the floor in the middle of the van. "All the proof you need is right there."

Kelley leaned over so far in his seat that Brandon was sure he was going to topple over. "Oh my God."

"If it's any consolation, you were right," Brandon told him. "About everything. If you hadn't turned us on to this place, we never would have been able to avert any of it."

"How are we supposed to _explain_ any of it?" Kelley wanted to know.

His question garnered a laugh from the entire back end.

"That's easy, boss, you _don't_," Greg answered. "We'll use the same 911 call hang up method that the guys have perfected through the years. You'd better believe that there's no way to come clean about what happened here without implicating ourselves."

Kelley shook his head, swiping a hand across his temples. "This is going to take days to sink in."

Brandon rested his head against the sidewall of the van, and felt a hand creep over his. He stared at Jazz next to him and saw the smile in her eyes, though her expression remained unchanged. He squeezed her hand firmly in return, not caring if anyone _did _notice. Something about her grey irises in that moment made him never want to break their gaze.

* * *

><p>Consciousness was slow to return, but it didn't seem to matter. Leonardo was perfectly content to remain on the outskirts of reality, resting in the soothing shadow that covered his mind. There were different types of darkness. The kind that had filled his nightmares for the better part of a year had been a veil to hide the insidious creatures that wanted to do his entire family harm.<p>

The darkness that settled over his spirit now was unique, in that it didn't leave a void where the light should have been. It seemed to be creating a comfortable, peaceful environment that mimicked the safety of his sewer home.

A familiar sound resounded in his ears quietly, as though it was echoing from a far distance. He didn't honestly _feel_ like waking up, and if he hadn't recognized the accent so clearly, he wouldn't have even bothered.

Leonardo rolled his neck in the direction of his red-masked brother and opened leaden eyes with effort.

"Hey…" Raphael said softly, with obvious restraint. "You trying to test my patience or something, Fearless?"

He managed a half smile as the rest of the Lab slowly came into view.

"Thanks for keeping your word," his brother said.

Leonardo honestly didn't know what he was talking about, but he nodded anyway. "Sure, Raph," he croaked. "Is everyone all right?"

"Yeah, they're safe, Leo. Takashi wasn't lying completely. His goons caught Greg and Kelley, but the others got them out. The Akiudo had _bad_ plans for using the Plant, Bro. New York City ain't the only thing that's been saved tonight."

Leonardo wasn't positive he wanted to know what that meant right then. He saw Raphael climb to his feet. "Where are you going?"

"Grabbing you some water. Calley asked to talk to ya if you came around in your right mind. Are you sane enough to satisfy your wife?"

"Yeah," he said with as much eagerness as he could muster. "Can you get her on the phone?"

Leonardo groaned softly as Raphael helped adjust the back of the bed so he could sit up a little, and drew his arm slowly out of the covers to take the water bottle from his brother. Raphael didn't release it to him completely.

"Just drink, Bro. I'll call up Calley in a second."

The room-temperature water could have been from a pure mountain spring as far as Leonardo was concerned. He sucked down as much as he could handle before nodding at Raphael to take the bottle away.

The red-masked turtle selected the appropriate speed-dial, and set the phone in Leonardo's hand. As he listened to it ring he watched Raphael step out of the room, and then remembered that Donatello had to sleeping a few feet away.

_Gotta keep it down._

"Hello?" Calley didn't sound as if he'd woken _her_ up.

"Hi," he said quietly. "It's me."

The young woman exhaled deeply. "Leo. I didn't really expect to hear from you for a few more hours."

"Then why weren't you asleep?"

"You have to ask?" She released another breath. "Are you okay?"

"Uh…well, it seems like it," he allowed. "I appear to be in one piece. Sorry to keep you waiting."

"You should still be resting," she chided lightly.

"Does that mean you don't want to talk to me?"

"I've been _dying_ to hear your voice…but I don't want you to push yourself."

"Its okay, Calley. If I was still in real danger, Doc would be in here looking over my shoulder."

"I guess that's true. How are you doing with…other things?"

"You mean Takashi?" Leonardo asked. "I'm all right. There was no joy in killing in him, but he honestly didn't give me a choice." He grunted with sudden irritation. "The only reason I'm _hurt _is because I gave in to anger. It got the best of me a little bit, but I overcame it. It sounds like we _all_ managed to make it somehow."

"I have one more question, and then you need to go back to sleep."

"What's that, Calley?"

"When are you coming down here?"


	91. Breathing

Leonardo slept deeply. He had no perception of the amount of time that had passed when he stirred, but he felt a lot better than what he remembered from the night before. He had a vague recollection of being carried, and he was pretty sure he could recall the first insertion of a mobile IV line in the back of the Avalanche. Other than that, he was drawing a blank.

He tried to look at his watch, but the timepiece wasn't on his wrist. Leonardo raised his head to look around, and was immediately met by one of his brother's voices.

"Leo?"

Leonardo glanced across the room and saw Donatello sitting up.

"How are you feeling?" the purple-masked turtle asked.

"So-so," he replied, propping up further on his elbows to see him better. "A little lost."

Donatello chuckled. "You'll get caught up, Bro, slowly. Doesn't it feel good to just _relax_?"

Leonardo heaved a giant sigh. "After all the sleepless nights and anxious days…it's almost hard to believe that it's over. I didn't dream all of last night up, did I?" He gave Don a wry smile.

"No, you didn't. And a whole lot of people woke up alive today _because _the crisis was averted. I don't think Takashi had any intention of allowing a confrontation to take place. The Akiudo was using a new type of stun weapon last night, and one of their guys told Sayuri that Takashi meant them for _us_."

Leonardo rolled his eyes at the ceiling. "So he wasn't going to play fair; now that's a shocker," he said sarcastically. "What was his move after that?"

"Get as far away as possible so they could trigger Indian Point, I suppose. I don't think we'll ever know how many people would have been affected. The Akiudo was set up to use a thermonuclear weapon in conjunction with a massive meltdown, Leo. I don't want to imagine how bad it could have been. The only comfort is that we might not have _lived_ to see the aftermath."

Leonardo shivered at the thought. "A thermonuclear weapon? That's like something out of a nightmare."

"Tell me about it, Leo." Don shook his head. "Judging from the stage of set-up their scientists were in, I think they were preparing to trigger it within hours of the time that Takashi wanted to meet us."

"This is about the scariest thing I've ever heard."

"You're lucky you didn't have to see the weapon. On another note, it's a good thing that Brandon and Jazz ended up out there."

"Yeah, I…" Leo trailed off as he realized what Donatello had just said. "Why was it a good thing?"

"Because after Greg and Kelley got into trouble, Sayuri and Tim were focused on first getting away, then staging the escape. That left Brandon and Jazz to take care of the rest."

"What rest?"

Donatello laughed once more. "We'll get there, Leo."

Leonardo turned his head as he heard the door opening, and smiled when he saw Luke. The blond-haired doctor nodded to acknowledge Donny, and headed straight for Leo's side.

"Am I going to make it?" the blue-masked turtle asked impishly.

Luke gave him a withering smile. "I'd say your chances are pretty good, Leo. Feeling any pain?"

Leo shook his head. "Not at the moment. Am I actually _down,_ Doc, or is this situation temporary?"

"Leave it to you to be the most impatient out of all your brothers."

"It's just a question, Doc," he protested.

"You should be able to move around later today without much trouble, Leo. You lost quite a bit of blood last night."

"I noticed," Leo said dryly. "I guess Takashi hit something important. I didn't have time to figure it out in the middle of everything."

"I wager you lost over four pints of blood in a short period of time; it's no wonder you went into shock."

"I guess not." Leonardo exhaled softly. "Thanks for helping me pull through, Doc."

"It's nice to be able to help in some way, although I _wasn't _hoping for someone to get hurt," Luke said meaningfully.

"I wasn't planning on it either. Is anyone else injured?"

"Amazingly, no. Among all the gunshots and hand-to-hand fighting, no one suffered anything worth mentioning. The effects of those stun weapons were thankfully short-lasting. I didn't find anything unusual from Raph's vitals, not to mention Greg and Kelley."

"Raph?" Leonardo echoed. "What _about_ him?"

"He didn't mention Yukiko's horror film recovery from hell?"

Leonardo's brow furrowed. "No, that didn't come up."

"Take your time, Leo," Donatello reminded him from across the room. "The whole story will come out."

"Do you feel like you could talk to someone else?" Luke asked.

Leonardo thought the man was possibly just trying to change the subject from Yukiko, but he nodded anyway.

"Kelley's been hanging around just to have the opportunity to speak to you, despite the massive amount of phone calls he's been getting."

"Oh. Yeah, Doc, send him in." Leonardo worked to sit up further as Luke left the room, swallowing as nerves leaped up in his chest.

The anxious energy must have been noticeable, because it warranted Donatello to speak up. "Relax, Leo. He's on _our_ side."

Leonardo laughed humorlessly. "After what he probably went through last night, I find that hard to fathom."

"As if it was _your_ fault?" Donatello said incredulously. "All of you had your parts to play, Leo. No one was pressed into doing anything except for Marc, but that was an emergency."

"What are you saying about Marcus?"

Donatello shook his head as the door to the Lab opened again. "Later, Leo."

Leo watched the large figure of Matthew Kelley slip under the door frame. "Hello, Director."

"Leonardo." The man spoke only the one word as he approached.

"I'm glad you're all right," the blue-masked turtle told him.

Kelley's eyebrows rose as he lowered into a chair. "_Me_? I'm just happy to see that the entire Team Suicide made it home."

Leonardo cleared his throat. "Yes, well…as you noticed, these things are often more complicated than they appear to be at the beginning."

"You can say that again," Kelley said quietly, his normally booming tone suddenly quiet. "If you'd told me a few months ago that I'd be here right now, I wouldn't have believed you," he continued. "It's hard to accept that all of it is real. I know that it happened, but…You know what I mean, don't you?"

Leo nodded. "I do. Director, I respect the position that you hold, and I realize how difficult it was for you lay aside the law and throw in your lot with us."

The man rested his chin in one hand. "I wasn't sure how I'd feel today, after a night like that one. It's…unexpected."

"Unexpected how?"

"I thought there would be guilt, or at least nagging doubt. That's how I was feeling going into last night."

"How do you feel today?"

"Like a giant weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Like I can finally breathe again, knowing that the world is safe from that gang. Now that it comes to it, I'm not experiencing guilt. I'm just relieved it's over."

"So am I," Leo replied. "I wrestled with myself for days over facing Takashi again. I knew how it would likely end. But he _is_ the one who forced my hand."

"You acted defensively," Kelley said quickly. "Everything you did, _we_ did, was to stop another attack from being carried out on civilians. The only thing I was initially concerned about was the amount of physical evidence left behind at the ghostscraper, but Katherine explained her blood contamination method to me."

"That actually started with Tim." Leonardo grinned suddenly. "Are we okay, Director?" he asked pointedly.

Kelley smiled faintly. "You're better than okay; not that I'll ever be able to say so on the record. I've been avoiding the phone and the Authorities as much as possible, but I'm going to have to leave soon. Plenty of fear and questions have been roused over the two scenes, though I don't know if anyone has connected them yet. I'm not sure how long it will take them to make that leap."

"Being just as clueless as everyone else doesn't mean you can't help 'guide' them in the right direction." Leonardo smirked.

"I'll do my best." Kelley shook his head. "I think I'm better off leaving these missions to you guys though. I nearly got myself killed last night."

"Greg got caught too, and he's an old-timer," Leo pointed out.

"I'll be sure to tell him you think so." The man laughed.

"Everyone needs help from time to time, Director. That's why we have each other."

"What is it going to take to get you to call me by my first name?"

"Maybe when Greg and Kat can manage it, it'll be easier for the rest of us," Leo said honestly. "Keep in touch, and it's bound to happen eventually."

The man looked toward the door as if someone was watching. "You never know. There might be other things I need your help with occasionally."

Leonardo nodded solemnly, but couldn't maintain the serious expression. "Give us a ring anytime."

"I understand that there's been a shift in your paradigm."

"Our what?" Leonardo looked at him strangely.

"The Phantoms have been replaced," Kelley clarified.

"They have been, huh?" Leo said mildly. "I suppose the _Watchmen_ have popped up in their place?"

Donatello groaned. "This is all _my_ fault. I'm the one who accidentally started Mike on this 'name change' kick."

"I think it's appropriate," Leo countered. "After all, we didn't really create the 'Phantom' moniker. It was placed on us by the criminals first. We embraced it to help strike some fear of remembrance in their hearts, to hopefully prevent them from offending again. Watchmen defines us better; it's closer to the function that we try to perform for the city."

Kelley stretched out a hand toward Leonardo, and the turtle shook it. "I'll be in touch soon…and I hope you'll keep me in the loop."

Leonardo smiled. "I think you've earned that right."

* * *

><p>It was close to 9pm before Leonardo emerged into the living area with a small hobble and Luke's blessing. He didn't mind staying in the Lab to keep Donatello company, but he wasn't about to stay down constantly if his injury didn't require it.<p>

He was greeted by the welcome sight of his other two brothers lounging on the couch and recliner respectively. "Hey, you two," he said fondly.

"Oh brother, here it comes," Raphael said teasingly. "We never had our recap from the mission, huh? 'Course you weren't _there_ for half of it."

"I wasn't gone _that_ long," Leo argued.

The red-masked turtle grinned and waved at him to sit down. "Get off your feet, Bro. No sense in wasting energy."

Leonardo sat down in another chair facing the couch. "So I heard that the Phantoms are no more."

Raphael and Michelangelo exchanged a glance.

"Well, yeah, we were gonna tell you about that," Mike faltered.

"I'm the one that did it, Leo," Raphael said. "I made the call to 911 last night, and it just felt right."

Leonardo nodded. "It _does_ feel right…especially considering that the extended team can fall under the same name. None of these complicated missions are pulled off without their help. Our humans had an important role of their own to play last night, didn't they?"

Raphael snickered. "You mean the way they saved the city and a few others from nuclear disaster? Yeah, I think that was important."

Leonardo's attention was drawn by a laugh that came from behind the kitchen door, and his gaze shifted as Brandon and Jazz entered the room. They were so engaged with one another that they barely seemed to notice the three turtles.

Michelangelo waved with an exaggerated motion. "What's shakin', you two?"

"Nothing," Jazz said demurely, leaving plenty to Leonardo's imagination.

When Brandon's golden brown eyes met him, Leonardo saw a flash of something that the man had been missing for months.

"Good to see you up, Leo. Are you feeling okay?" Brandon asked.

"Yeah; I'm gonna be fine." Leonardo noticed Jazz reaching for a nearby jacket. "Are you going somewhere?"

The young woman nodded. "We were just gonna get some air."

"My keys _better_ be where I left 'em!" Raphael retorted.

Brandon barely contained a laugh. "The Battleshell is too much for me, Raph. You can have her."

"Gee, _thanks_, Bran," Raphael shot back.

"We'll be back," the man said lightly.

Leonardo stared after the pair, unable to miss the way Brandon pulled Jazz close to his side, but waited until they were out the door to say something. "Okay. What did I miss?"


	92. Coming Home

***As I was making last minute changes to this chapter today, I had to turn on Skylar Grey's "Coming Home, Part 2." I discovered the song while I was writing Watchmen, and the lyrics fit the fic so well, that it became the unofficial theme song of the story. Look it up on Youtube if you want to complete the effect.**

* * *

><p>(Six Days Later)<p>

The orange-masked turtle felt his excitement growing, the further they traveled up the mountain. He'd been so worked up over the journey that he'd barely slept the night before. Michelangelo didn't feel any effects from the lack of rest yet; only an intense eagerness to reach their home away from home, along with his wife and little boy. It had only been about a month since he'd seen them, but it felt infinitely longer.

Mike leaned his head against the window to gaze at the incredible scenery they were passing. As he stared at the sunlight streaming through the brightly colored leaves, he had a brief flashback of his first trip into the Blue Mountains roughly a year prior. _It kind of felt like we might never get back here. _He rested a hand against his plastron, remembering well how tight his chest had felt, and the difficulty he'd had with breathing.

"Mikey?"

Donatello's voice called Michelangelo back from his musing. He looked over his shoulder to see his purple-masked brother propped up on the seat behind him with Jenna.

"Yeah, Donny?"

"You haven't said anything in about five minutes," Don pointed out impishly. "Are you all right?"

"Mmhm. Ready to get there. How are _you_ feeling?"

Donny grunted as he tried to sit up further to talk to him, but Jenna's hand protectively held him back.

"Quit trying to do too much," she warned him. "Doesn't it feel good just to be out of the dark?"

Donatello looked annoyed, but didn't disagree with her. He focused on Mike instead. "I'm okay, Bro. Tired. I didn't sleep last night, but neither did you."

"Yeah, but _I'm_ not the one who's recovering," Mike argued.

Don drew one of his knees up defiantly. "The function is _there_, Mike. I just don't have the power to back it up yet. With Marc's help, I'll keep progressing."

Michelangelo shook his head in amazement. "That you're even _here_ is still a miracle to me. Everyone's gonna want a piece of you when we get to Lotus Salvus."

"As long as I get to sleep at some point," he replied glibly.

"You'll sleep," Luke spoke up from the front passenger seat. "You'll rest like a baby when _I'm _through with you. That's the last time I'm leaving you unsupervised overnight for awhile."

Donny rolled his eyes. "You act like it's the end of the world, Doc. After everything we just went through, a sleepless night is the least of our problems."

"I'm _making_ it my problem, Don, because that's my job," Luke said matter-of-factly. "If you can behave, I'll make sure you get to stay on the first floor, instead of sending you all the way upstairs to the Lab. Haven't you had enough isolation?"

Don made a scoffing sound. "Enough to last me a few years probably. How much further, Doc? I forgot to check what time it was when we left the airport."

"We've probably only got another half an hour or so," Greg volunteered from the driver's seat.

Mike peered over the seat in front of him at a sleeping Sayuri, curled up under a blanket. "We all could have had one giant slumber party last night," he mentioned. "I don't think _anyone_ bothered to sleep."

"I did," Greg said dryly. "You wouldn't have wanted me flying the Gulfstream otherwise, especially without my trusty co-pilot. I missed you, Don."

The purple-masked turtle shook his head. "I'll be ready to help with 'Lola' on the way home, Heff. Whenever we choose to go back, that is."

"I could go for another six month stint," Mike joked. "I didn't get to enjoy much of the last trip."

Luke shot a sympathetic smile his direction. "You'd better be prepared to run your shell off and make the most of it then."

"I could run right _now_," Mike said emphatically. "I wanna get there so bad."

Greg chuckled. "We'll make it, Mikey, I promise."

Michelangelo turned around to look out the back window, searching for a sign of the rental van that the others were riding in. He was satisfied to see the vehicle a few yards behind theirs, and glanced up front again as Luke sighed.

"It feels good to be here," the blond man said quietly. "With everything that's happened over these last few weeks…all I want to do is hold my baby."

"Aw – you hear that, Heff?" Mike said. "Everyone's antsy. Are you sure you can't go _any_ faster?"

The man waved him off. "I will get us there as quickly as I _safely_ can."

The orange-masked turtle smirked and shifted to face Donatello. "So is it true, Don?"

"Is _what _true?"

"A little birdie told me that Brandon wants you to start searching for his dad again."

"Who said that?"

"I just told you. A little bird," Mike replied maddeningly.

Donatello nodded. "Yes, Bran asked me to resume the search. I guess he figures that after everything he went through, dealing with his father should be a cinch."

Michelangelo chuckled inwardly as a mental picture of the man appeared. It had been a lot of fun to watch the open development of Brandon and Jazz's relationship over the last few days. "I think Jazz is good for him," he asserted.

"She's good for _all _of us, Mike. I'm pretty sure it goes both ways. Jazz said it's been a long time since she's been _able_ to fit anywhere." Donatello's gaze faltered like he was looking at something else. "It's funny how people makes snap judgments without knowing the whole story, isn't it?"

Mike released a soft breath. "And they never get to know the cool people who could be underneath the stigma."

"It's sad," Don replied. "But not everyone can get past the cover of a book."

"That's true," Mike allowed. "I'm glad we got to see what was underneath, even if we had to put Jazz through the wringer. It's kind of the opposite of our normal situation, isn't it? Usually we're trying to _rescue_ the damsel in distress, not get her _into_ trouble. I guess a disaster brings you together either way," he finished lightly.

Jenna's arm rested over the back of Michelangelo's seat. "It's more than that though, Mike. The disasters in our lives aren't the only reason we're united with you. The abuse I went through as a child didn't magically bring me to Donny. But the hard stuff does have a way of…tempering a person. It's easy to get broken down by those events. You either have to learn how to cope _somehow_, or give up entirely. The survival mindset helps prepare us to meld into this group. That's my theory anyway."

He grinned suddenly. "It's like, here's the bonus for all the stuff you've had to go through; you get to join the craziest club on Earth."

Jenna smiled at him. "I like the sound of that. The 'reward' for living through everything else is arriving at the point where you finally get to come home."

Mike discreetly looked the other direction when Jenna leaned over to kiss his brother, and pondered on what the young woman had said. _Sometimes it feels like you have to go through the bad things just to get to the great stuff on the other side, but that's now really how it works, is it? More like the goodness is there in _spite_ of evil. _

A few more minutes of silence passed in the van as the sun rose higher in the late morning sky. Michelangelo maintained his composure until he noticed Greg preparing to make the turn onto the familiar access road. He barely resisted the urge to cheer, choosing to only pump his fist for a resting Sayuri's sake.

It would only be another ten minutes or so from the narrow road to reach the massive log house that had been Luke's family home growing up. _Lotus Salvus_ or "Refuge" was an apt name for the location to which they'd fled to recover and find safety after the earthquake had driven them out of New York the year before.

Mike sat up straighter on the seat, finding it much harder to stay still now that they were this close. When he looked back he saw Jenna supporting an arm behind Donatello's back as he grimaced. "We're almost there, Bro," he said reassuringly.

His brother gave him a grateful smile but didn't say anything. Donny seemed content to watch the trees that appeared to be closing in on them on their steady climb.

When the house came into view, Mike reached over the seat to poke Sayuri's shoulder. "Hey, we're here," he announced.

The Asian woman rose with a jerk. "Already? That felt fast."

"That's because you rested, like some _other_ people should have," Luke said meaningfully.

"We've got all kinds of time for that, Doc," Mike returned. "Can I get out, Greg? Please?"

The van was still a few yards out from the house, but the turtle didn't care. Greg pulled to a stop obligingly, and Mike jumped out the side door to unleash the torrent of energy that had been building in his muscles for miles. As he dashed toward the wrap-around porch, the front door flew open, and Rebecca came bounding outside.

In two steps she'd lunged off the porch, and Mike was there to catch her before she hit the ground. Becky laughed as he swung her around in a circle, a joyous sound that forced him to put off kissing her until the urge became too great. The young woman clung to him until he was so dizzy that he nearly collapsed on the grass.

Mike ran his hand over her slightly tangled light brown curls, marveling at the intensity of her blue-green eyes that almost took his breath away. He could hear others reuniting around him, but he was entirely caught up in the young woman pressing against his chest.

"I missed you," she said.

Michelangelo shook his head as joy made him feel like he could burst. "I missed you and Nate. I bet he's bigger and everything, huh?"

"He was asleep the last I checked, but I don't think he'd mind waking up to see his daddy." Rebecca shuddered as she laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm so glad you're finally here."

"The feeling's mutual, Beck. We've got a lot of catching up to do, and a ton of introductions to make." Mike suddenly recalled Jazz.

"That's right; we have a new member." Rebecca collected herself to look around at the other arrivals. "Where is she?"

Michelangelo surveyed the group and finally settled on the second van. A flash of color inside the vehicle confirmed the young woman's presence. "It looks like she's taking her time. Jazz is cool, but she might not be comfortable right away. You know how overwhelming it is to meet everyone."

She smiled. "Yes, I remember. We're all going to be really nice to her, Mikey."

While they watched Brandon got out of the car and hesitated by the door as he waited for Jazz to join him. The young woman emerged slowly, as though stepping foot on an alien planet.

"C'mon, Jazz," Mike called encouragingly. "Our girls don't bite any more than we do."

Becky smacked his shoulder lightly. "Take it easy on the girl, Mike. Don't embarrass her."

Rebecca strode off to meet Jazz, and Mike was ready to follow her until his niece's small voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Dada! Dada!"

Mike turned in time to see his red-masked brother scoop the little turtle off the porch, from where she'd fallen in her excitement to get to him. Raphael clutched Olivia to his side with one arm, while the other was extended around Karina.

"Dada…" Olivia's arms were wrapped around his brother's neck so tightly, he had to wonder if Raphael could breathe.

Mike grinned broadly as he trotted to catch up with Rebecca, where she'd already introduced herself to Jazz. He was relieved to see Jazz looking relatively relaxed.

"So…you're the girl who speaks like ten languages," Jazz remarked.

"It's amazing how they multiply when someone else tells it." Rebecca shot a look at Michelangelo. "But my guy likes to brag, and there's no stopping him sometimes."

Mike reached an arm around her waist casually. "I'm at fault for telling people how awesome you are?"

"Honestly, Mike. It's not all about _me_." Rebecca's smile was so shy, it almost seemed like _she_ was the newcomer.

"I guess we'll need to do some talking of our own to work out the facts from the love-bird syndrome, won't we?" Jazz smirked.

Mike bit his lip to prevent himself from retorting about the way she was gripping Brandon's arm. "They're really not all stories," he protested. "Becky's the coolest, but then, all of you are. We've got the greatest friends on Earth."

Brandon offered him a half smile. "We feel the same way, Mike."


	93. Warm Meetings

Donatello felt like he had a permanent grin plastered across his face as he watched Reina cling to Luke's leg while the man tried to carry a couple of bags through the room. The blond-haired girl appeared determined that her father wasn't going to escape her grip.

"I'm about to hold you again, Reina," Luke said patiently. "I just need to get this stuff out of the way first."

Leonardo cut off the man's stride and reached to take the luggage from him. "Get your girl, Doc," the turtle said affectionately.

Luke released his things to Leo and boosted his daughter into his arms, then headed to the couch where Donatello was propped up.

"Seems like your kid is happy to see you," Don remarked.

Luke beamed as the little girl stretched to pat Donatello's arm. "I'm not the only one. I think she's happy to see her Uncle Donny too."

"Donee?" Reina asked questioningly, giving the turtle a toothy smile.

"She just loves me for my keys," the purple-masked turtle quipped.

Luke adjusted Reina on his lap as he settled further onto the couch. "I don't think I've ever been so happy to get here."

"You can say that again, Doc. It feels good to unwind. There's been tension in the air for such a long time…just having the chance to not think about any of it feels amazing."

Luke gave him a stern look. "You take too much on yourself."

"As if I could help it, Doc?" Donny scoffed. "The Akiudo wasn't going to wait until I was all better. The city would have been screwed, and a few others to boot."

"I understand that," the man said softly. "But now we're here, and there's no reason to push yourself for anything."

"I got the memo. You're not going to forbid me from working out with Marc, though, are you?"

"Not if you _behave_."

"Since when do I misbehave, Doc?"

"Since you got a new partner in crime," Luke said dryly. "Like I don't know Jazz is sneaking the laptop to you after I'd already taken it away?"

"So I could _work_. Don't you understand that I never would have been able to track down Takashi's phone without the time I put into the program in advance? It's not like I was chatting up my friends on Facebook."

"Do you spend much time social networking?"

"Have to keep up with the fans and everything." Donatello gave him a wry smile, and Luke's expression softened further.

"I _have_ to be tough on you," Luke said. "If I give you an inch, I know you'll take a mile."

Don shrugged. "It's no fun being bored."

The man nudged his shoulder. "You know how this works, Donny."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he said impishly, and patted a hand over Reina's blond hair. "But I think _this_ one is going to be demanding a large portion of your attention for a while."

"She has to sleep sometime."

Donatello chuckled. "There's no escaping you, is there?"

"You have to ask?"

Donny was considering a response when he was distracted by Olivia toddling into the room with a scrap of tattered red cloth between her fingers. Karina was following the baby turtle, and Don offered her a wave. "Did Liv steal that from Raph?"

"No – Raph gave it to her before we left. Liv's barely let the mask out her sight; she wouldn't even sleep without it."

The purple-masked turtle laughed as his niece tapped his knee. "She loves her daddy."

"Yep, and she's not the only one." Karina threw a look over Donatello's shoulder.

Donny followed her gaze to where it fell on Raphael, who was hauling another duffle bag through the Great Room.

"Aren't you almost done?" Karina called to his older brother.

"Last one, Chica. Lemme put this down and I'll be right back. I know how much you've been dying to see me." Raphael smirked.

Karina shook her head as she rested a hand on Olivia's shell. "Your daddy will never change."

"Donny-san!" Shunshi's voice greeted him from the door, nearly giving Donatello whiplash as he turned his direction.

"Hey, Shunshi," he greeted warmly. "It's good to see you!"

The boy rushed across the room and bounced onto the couch with a mass of excited energy that rivaled Michelangelo's. "I'm so happy you're here! And you talk!"

Donatello pressed an arm around Shunshi's shoulder. "That's right, Shun, I talk. You didn't think I'd be stuck using that machine forever, did you?"

He shook his head. "No. But I work hard with my sister on English, just in case."

"Thanks, Shun. It means a lot that you'd go to the trouble."

The boy flashed him a proud smile. "It's not bad here. I like it, but I missed you. It took you forever to come."

"Sorry, bud, we did out best," Donatello said apologetically.

Shunshi's smile became sheepish. "I know. But I never wanted to leave you."

"You've been the man of the house around here, haven't you?"

Shunshi nodded. "Becky-san and I looked for wolves."

Donny winced. "I hope you didn't find any. The last ones we met up here weren't very friendly."

"We didn't search far, just walked the edge of the property. She asked me to come with her," he said importantly. "I took the bokken Leonardo-san gave me. I couldn't have killed them with it, but it is good for practice, isn't it?"

"Well, yes…" Donatello said slowly. "But you wouldn't even want to hurt the wolves unless they were posing a threat to you."

"And you're not supposed to start the fight," Shunshi said knowingly. "I remember. You tell me."

"That's right, Shun. Becky probably just wanted to make certain that you wouldn't be surprised by them if they _were_ hanging out in the area."

Donatello glanced over his shoulder as he heard the door again, and caught a flash of red hair. "April!"

"Hey, Don!" The woman dropped her grocery bags by the door and hugged his neck from behind the couch. "You guys are _early_."

"We didn't want to wait the extra day. Can you blame us?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm glad you didn't. We should have enough food to last us at least a couple of weeks now. Hopefully."

Shunshi leaped to his feet. "Sorry, April-san. I am coming back to help!"

April nodded at the boy as he ran over to the door to get outside. "I picked up a few of your favorites, Donny. I hope Doc isn't completely limiting your caffeine intake."

Don looked over at the blond-haired doctor.

"We'll see," Luke said maddeningly.

"You're seriously not cutting me _any_ slack?" the turtle asked incredulously.

"That depends on you," the man replied.

Donatello rolled his eyes with a mighty sigh as he leaned his head against the back of the couch. "You're driving me crazy today, Doc."

"Whatever it takes."

Don rolled his neck toward the door when he heard it open again, and waved as Hisui and Calley entered the Great Room with more groceries.

Calley's face lit up as she smiled at Donny. "Welcome back, guys!" She nodded to include Luke.

Luke started to get to his feet. "Leo will want to know that you're here."

The action turned out to be unnecessary. The blue-masked turtle was already flying out of another door, clearly alerted to their arrival when April had entered the kitchen. Leonardo slowed down when he saw everyone else in the Great Room, but none of the eagerness left his dark eyes as he went to greet his wife.

The blond woman settled into his brother's embrace and Leonardo cupped her cheek in his hand as he kissed her.

"_Saigo ni, koko de watashi no aidesu_," she told Leo. (At last you are here, my love.)

"_Koishii, wo koishikatta_," he replied. (Beloved, I missed you.)

Donatello released a satisfied breath as he broke away from the pair. _This feels even better than I pictured it would. I kind of thought I might be a little disappointed to come here in this condition, but Lotus Salvus already seems to be working its magic._

* * *

><p>Nearly half an hour passed before a delicious scent teased Donatello's senses, and he peered toward the kitchen hopefully. Hisui was the one who ended up coming out with mug in hand. She tossed black hair with a secretive smile as she brought coffee over to him.<p>

He savored the aroma for a couple of seconds before taking a grateful sip. "I need to have them ship these beans to me in New York. I've never tasted better in the city." Donatello chuckled as the young woman stood at attention, like she was a servant waiting on him. "Sit down, Hisui. Talk to me for a while."

She sank onto the other side of the couch and folded her hands in her lap. "How are you feeling, Donatello-san?"

"I'm feeling _happy_," he emphasized. "Tired too, but it's great to see everyone."

The girl nodded. "These last few weeks left everyone bound as though with ropes that were strung too tightly. It is very freeing to know that you are all right, and your people will be safe."

Donatello laughed at her reference to the city of New York.

"Did I say something wrong?" she asked seriously.

"No, I'm sorry," he answered. "It's just a funny thought to me, New Yorkers being 'our people.' We've probably sacrificed our bodies for them more times than I can count, and they don't even know we exist." Donatello gave her a bittersweet smile. "But they're _our_ people, just the same."

Hisui nodded. "You obviously care for them, or you wouldn't stay. I understand you may feel…responsible in some ways. But that would not hold you forever; not when you have somewhere you can retreat to like this."

"Either we love them or we really _are_ crazy." Donatello grinned.

Hisui looked down at the floor. "You take a difficult road, Donatello-san. But I think you will see things for it. Somehow you will be paid for your good, even if it cannot be recognized by all people."

The purple-masked turtle paused for a contemplative moment. "We have everything we need…and more. None of us ever imagined that our circle would grow _this _large. I don't know if there will ever be a personal advantage to staying in New York, other than the fact that we were born there. Still, we have a connection with them from trying to protect those streets for so many years. It's hard to picture ever leaving for good."

"They're lucky to have you," Hisui said quietly.

Donatello gave her a meaningful look. "I think _I'm_ pretty lucky too." He looked out of one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and cast her another smile. "Have you seen much of the surrounding country?"

"I have done a lot of walking and hiking with the other girls. We had to keep ourselves busy to prevent anyone from going crazy. It was not easy to wait without knowing what was happening."

"Such is the life our women often have to lead," Donny said morosely.

"What about your women?" Jenna spoke up from the hall.

"You have the difficult task of waiting," Donatello filled in. "Though I did an awful lot of it this time around too."

"Not much fun, is it?" Jenna came around the couch to join them, and Hisui immediately got to her feet. "You don't have to leave just because I came into the room," she assured the teenager.

"I have my own task I ought to be finishing," Hisui replied with a shy smile. "Excuse me."

Jenna curled up on the couch beside Donatello as Hisui left, and her comforting body heat washed over him.

"I see that someone managed to twist Doc's arm," Jenna offered, tapping his mug.

"I think April must have trumped him." Donatello smirked. As he went to lift the cup for another drink, however, it felt heavier in his hand than before. "Jen…could you take this from me please?"

The young woman lifted it from his hand instantly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just…"

"You're exhausted," she finished. "I'll get your brothers."

* * *

><p>Jenna trailed behind Leo and Raph as they took Donatello to one of the first floor bedrooms.<p>

"You need anything else right now, Bro?" Raphael asked.

Donatello shook his head. "No, thanks, guys. Go be with your girls." He waved them out of the room.

Jenna balanced against the edge of the bed. "Do you mind if I stay here until you fall asleep?"

"Do I mind?" The question amused Donatello. "I love being close to you."

Jenna chuckled as she crawled up beside him. "Good; because that's where I want to be too."

He gazed as her silently as she found a comfortable position. Jenna appeared relaxed on the surface, but there was something in her eyes that didn't sit well with him. "Is something bothering you?"

She shook her head. "No. I've just been doing some thinking."

"What about?"

The young woman hesitated. "It's not the right time."

Donatello cocked his head. "Jen, it's me. You can be honest. You don't have to worry about what I'll think. I'm always going to love you, no matter what."

She broke eye contact with him to stare up at the ceiling. "You want a baby too, don't you, Donny?"

Donatello took an inward breath before responding. Her inability to conceive was a sensitive issue. "Yeah, I'd like to be a father, Jen. I don't want you torturing yourself over this, though."

"I'm not suggesting torture. I want to talk to Caleb."

"Well…he is the genetics expert."

"We've considered this before, Don; I just think that I actually want to _do_ it this time. It makes sense to take advantage of all the resources at our disposal."

The turtle swallowed but forced a smile. _The last thing that I want is for her to be disappointed…but that's not a good enough reason not to try._

"Okay, Jen. We'll talk to him."


	94. Closure

(10 Weeks Later)

Brandon slouched against the back of the couch as he gazed at the overnight bag that was sitting on the other side of the coffee table. _I really should move that thing. _Reina and Olivia have already done their fair share of playing with the bag, digging through the contents to find out what was inside. _There's not much point. As soon as I get the call from Greg, I'll be out the door anyway._

He switched to staring at the massive beams that adorned the majestic Great Room ceiling. _It's hard to believe we're this close to another Thanksgiving. The year really flew by…parts of it._

Brandon heard a few random syllables that were strung together so that they nearly resembled a sentence, and glanced over to see Mike carrying Nathaniel down the steps.

"Still waiting for him to call?" the orange-masked turtle asked.

He nodded mutely as Michelangelo came into the room and plunked down on the other end of the couch.

"Are you feeling nervous?" Mike continued.

Brandon gave him a withering look. "How should I feel? I haven't seen the man in about twenty years."

"I think it's cool that you're going to see your dad, Bran. Maybe you can get some things off your chest."

The man shrugged. "I've let him hold this power over me for my entire life, and I'll just be glad to finally cut it off." Brandon looked down at the floor before sheepishly meeting Mike's gaze again. "I almost canceled the whole thing last night, and told Greg to forget it. But I think I'll regret it if I don't go."

Mike nodded. "You would, Brandon. It's better to be honest with him, better for _you_," he said meaningfully.

"I have to admit that after the…adventures of this year, this doesn't seem so traumatic," Brandon replied.

The research he'd requested Donatello to resume had landed a couple of promising leads over the last month, including the discovery that Carl James was wanted on several other felonious counts. It had been a surreal experience to learn that his father was being held without bail in Florida, and Brandon hadn't been sold on the idea of going to see him at first.

Kat had never pushed him to go, merely suggesting that the opportunity existed. Now both he and his older sister were preparing for the short trip to Florida that would finally drive a nail in the coffin of his broken relationship with his father.

Brandon grinned at Nate as Mike helped the baby turtle to maintain his balance by standing in between his legs. Nathaniel's sweet smile made the man feel lighter, and he had to laugh when the baby started bouncing up and down.

"That's right, Nate, work them muscles," Mike encouraged him.

"He's getting so big," Brandon remarked. "It's hard to believe he's six months old."

"He'll be crawling around here before we know it…and then all bets will be off." Mike smirked.

Brandon patted Nate's head fondly. "I think that's to be expected considering who he's related to."

"Well, yeah. He's gonna learn the art of 'trouble' from the best," Mike returned.

"He'll have _a lot_ of teachers around here in that case," Jazz offered from behind them.

Brandon turned his head to see the young woman, and his smile automatically widened. "I was wondering where you'd gotten to."

"Don needed my opinion, and now he needs the expert," she said vaguely. "Your brother requires you in the kitchen, Mikey. Something about an old recipe that was a favorite of Kat's?"

Michelangelo looked mystified, but quickly got to his feet with a grin. "Duty calls."

Jazz cleared her throat as the turtle started to pick up the baby. "Can I see Nate?"

"Sure – the little guy knows you well enough by _now_."

Brandon watched Michelangelo hand Nathaniel over to Jazz, and chuckled at the way the baby hung onto her side like a monkey. "So what's all this about in the kitchen?" he asked her. "Sounds a little mysterious."

"Nothing; Don's just playing catch-up now that he's got his feet underneath him."

"What does _that_ mean?"

"I'm sworn to secrecy," Jazz answered.

"I won't tell anyone," he protested mildly.

"Oh, please," she scoffed. "Your mouth is just as big as Mike's and Raph's." Jazz smiled teasingly, and then focused her attention on the baby. "Nate is a complete doll. I can't get over those big eyes."

Brandon crossed his arms over his chest as he settled into a more comfortable position on the couch. "You like the kids, huh?"

"Reina and Liv are hysterical to watch. I'd swear they were sisters if they didn't look so different. It sure doesn't seem to matter to them, though…not that it should."

Brandon shook his head. "Once you get to know the turtles and find out what they're all about, appearances are irrelevant."

Jazz broke away from cooing over Nathaniel long enough to look at Brandon's bag. "Are you ready for this?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I need to do it."

"You know I'd go with you in a heartbeat."

Brandon shook his head again. "I don't want to drag you back into a Prison, Jazz. We're not even going to be there that long."

Her hand landed on his arm. "The location wouldn't bother me."

He gave her a half smile. "You handled the 'crazy Asians' pretty well, so I'm not worried that you couldn't take it. This is just my longest living demon, and…"

"It's okay," she said reassuringly. "I don't _have_ to go. I'm only reminding you that I would have."

"Is this you trying to be nice to me again?" he asked impishly.

"It's a cycle, Bran. Break you down, build you up. It's all part of the fun."

Brandon traced a finger over a bright red highlight in her hair that she'd recently touched up. "It's never boring with you around."

"With me around? You guys are the _loco_ ones," she insisted.

"Yet you choose to stay." He chuckled, reviving the old argument. "What does that make you?"

"Very, very…entertained."

She wrapped her hand around his wrist, and he leaned over to kiss her.

"I'll be all right," Brandon said. "I need to get through this next part, and then I can hopefully continue on my path toward normality."

Jazz laughed. "Yeah, good luck with that."

* * *

><p>Brandon's eyes were glued to his watch while it seemed like time was standing still.<p>

"You know that won't make 3:00 come any faster, don't you, Bran?" Greg pointed out.

Brandon gave his friend a stern look. "You're here to fly, Greg, not to serve as the commentator on all things obvious."

"I'm just saying…"

"You'd better quit while you're ahead, Heffernan," Katherine advised. "Although I _don't_ understand why you wanted to be here so early, Bran. I think sitting outside makes the waiting worse. You didn't touch lunch today. Are you sure you wouldn't like to get something to eat?"

"Kat, we've got less than an hour to go! How do you expect me to eat _now_?"

"The same way you eat every other day?" she suggested.

Brandon murmured darkly under his breath as he adjusted his position closer to the car window. "I'm perfectly fine sitting here. If you two want to kill the time somewhere else, feel free."

Katherine rolled her eyes. "Sure. I'm gonna leave you alone, like the great big sister I've always been."

"Hey," Brandon said a little sharply. "I've listened to you talk about being an awful sister for a couple of years now, and I don't want to hear it anymore. You're not a bad person _or_ a bad sister, Kat.

"Do you really think Kari or I blame you for leaving California when you had the chance? The only reason I wasn't on the next plane out when I turned 18 is because I was a chicken. At least you did something with your life."

"So did you," she countered. "You went to school. You were a teacher, you kept up with Taekwondo—"

"I did enough to get by, Kat. I never took any chances, not really. Heck, the only action I saw was in the middle of a controlled spar."

"I don't know about any of that, Bran, but I know what _I_ did," Kat said. "I wasn't there for you and Karina. I was _barely_ there for Mom when she was sick."

"Kat, that wasn't your fault," he said instantly. "Mom was hardly diagnosed seven weeks before she passed away. There wasn't much time for _anything_."

"I could have done more," she said softly. "I should have come back home so many more times than I did, _before_ she got sick. I was never satisfied with life in California, but that shouldn't have meant cutting myself off from my family. I regret many things, but nothing more than hiding everything that was changing here in New York from you and Karina."

"It's not easy to tell people about the guys," Brandon allowed. "Anyway, that's in the past, Kat. If we're all being held accountable for every decision we've ever made, then I'm in _huge_ trouble."

She managed a smile for him.

"I'm serious, Kat. Don't hang onto this stuff, or try living under this 'bad sister' cloud for the rest of your life. You risked everything for me and a ton of people on the East Coast. At some point, you have to be able to forgive yourself that you're not capable of being in two places at once." He drew an arm around her back, and Katherine leaned into his embrace.

"There's not an evil bone in your body, Sis, but you're still dangerous to the bad guys. How many people can say that?"

"I can be pretty dangerous to _you_ too," she mock-challenged.

He laughed. "I'm not the only one. I'm telling you, Kat, if you can teach me that chokehold you disabled Raph with last week, I'll worship the ground you walk on."

Kat gave him a wry smile. "We'll see about that when we get back, Bran."

* * *

><p>The bronze-haired man walked tall through the main visiting room, despite the nerves clenching his stomach. <em>Why am I so anxious about this? <em>He's_ the one who should be tied up in knots, not me._

Brandon hesitated in the middle of the room, while Kat continued for a couple of steps. After a moment she turned around to look for him.

"I see him, Bran," she told him. "C'mon. Let's get this over with."

He put one foot in front of the other and followed his sister. Disgust was the first emotion to leap to the surface when he laid eyes on his father, but he breathed deeply to steady it. _Calm down. Do what you came for: let him go. You can keep it together long enough for that._

Carl peered up at the two of them emotionlessly as the approached. "I wasn't sure if you'd show," he said gruffly.

"It's been a long time, Carl," Katherine replied coolly.

"Not quite long enough for me," Brandon muttered.

"Then what are you doing here, besides wasting my time?" Carl asked flatly.

Katherine glanced at Brandon. He looked at the chair that was sitting across from his father, but he didn't feel like sitting down. Kat made no move toward it either.

"I'm sorry we had to fly down here to _waste_ your time, but we needed to see you again," Brandon continued evenly.

"What do you want from me?" Carl demanded. "Do I get to hear the sob story about how I ruined your life?"

Brandon clenched and unclenched his fists. "No. I'm not here to talk about how you ruined our lives when we were kids, or the way you _destroyed_ Karina by stealing the only thing she had left of our mother."

"She couldn't take care of that place, Brandon," Carl said snidely. "I did that girl a favor. So you ain't here to talk about those things. Then why'd you come?"

"I'm angry with you, and letting _go_ of all that anger is going to take a while," Brandon admitted. "But I'm taking my first steps today in the direction of my new...unrepressed mindset. I can't go anywhere unless I forgive you."

"You came here to forgive me?" Carl said sarcastically. "Well, doesn't that just make my day."

"I could have done it over the phone, but I think that some things are better to do in person," Brandon replied.

He edged around the side of the table slowly. "I've been through a lot in the past few months, and I think it's partially enabled me to stand here today. I can do things even when I don't have the emotion to back them up. I don't have to _feel_ forgiveness. I can make the decision to let you go."

"That's all very nice, Son. Which part couldn't you say over the phone?"

Brandon shook his head. "You could at least _pretend_ to show a little remorse, but I guess that's beneath you."

"Did you really expect that from me coming in, Brandon?"

"No, but you're not making this easy for me. I'm _over_ you as far as I'm concerned. The hard part is letting you off for the way you treated Karina and our Mom."

"Your stupid _whore_ of a mother was the worst mistake I ever made!"

In the blink of an eye Brandon's fist connected with the man's mouth so hard that it sent both his father and the chair he'd been sitting in tumbling backwards. He'd hardly taken three steps away before two pairs of arms descended on his shoulders.

Brandon grinned into the faces of the Prison guards. "Tell me you never wanted to do that! C'mon!"

Their faces weren't laughing, but Brandon couldn't help chuckling as he heard another guard radioing in a request to contact the local police department.

"Let's go," the man on his right commanded, as he and his partner herded him toward the door.

"You're my hero, Bran!" Katherine called after them.

Brandon laughed, as inappropriate as it seemed. "Bail me out, Kat!"


	95. Fragile

Raphael drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly as he paused in his stride to look over his shoulder. Michelangelo wasn't leading the pack for a change, choosing to hang back slightly with Donatello at a slower pace. "How ya doin', Bro?" he directed toward the purple-masked turtle.

"I'm fine," Donny assured him. "I'm just holding back to keep the docs off my shell."

"We're almost there," Leonardo mentioned from the front. "We could take it easier from here."

The two older turtles waited for the younger ones to catch up, then started walking again. Raphael cast a judicious glance at Don, analyzing the way he was carrying himself. _He doesn't look bad, not bad at all. But he hasn't had his strength back for very long, and we came real close to losing him. Maybe we _are_ pushing things too fast. Last thing he needs is a relapse._

"You sure you're all right, Donny?" Raphael asked.

His genius brother gave him a tolerant smile. "I won't lie to you, Raph, I promise. I don't want to be off my feet again. _You_ know how boring that is."

Raphael chuckled. "Do I ever. I nearly went out of my head over being off my feet for six months."

Donatello grinned faintly. "All things pass with time."

The red-masked turtle thumped an arm over his shell. "What doesn't kill us makes us stronger."

Raphael looked around the partial clearing they were approaching before following Leonardo up the nearby incline. He was close to the top of the overlook when he realized that his other two brothers had fallen back again, and Mike had a hand on Donny's shoulder.

"Don?" Leo was the first to speak, before starting back down the hill. "What is it? What's wrong?"

The purple-masked turtle tried to wave off his attention. "Nothing. I'm fine – I'm coming."

"Donny, if you need to stop—" Raphael argued.

"That's not _it,_" Donatello cut him off. "I'm sorry," he said more quietly. "I didn't expect to feel this way."

"To feel what way?" Leo asked gently.

Donny started walking up the hill without answering him.

"Don, we're not going anywhere," Raphael reminded him. "Don't make us drag it outta you."

"It's me," Mike volunteered. "He's stuck on last year."

Raphael wasn't sure what last year had to do with anything, but he saw understanding dawn in Leonardo's eyes.

"Oh…The day I found you out here in the middle of that ice storm?" Leonardo suggested.

Donatello stood silently at the top of the overlook, gazing at the surrounding mountains in the light of the late afternoon sun. "That day broke something inside of me, and I don't think I'll ever get it back completely," he said finally.

After lowering to the ground, Don continued. "There was a time when we were growing up when I can remember feeling almost invincible. That mistaken belief was corrected fairly quickly. At the same time, I always believed that if we stuck together, we'd be okay. We'd make it through somehow.

"I lived with this illusion that we had a better fighting chance than most people because of the way we're built, our background, our training…But when it comes down to it, none of that can save us. We're just as frail and fragile underneath the hard exterior as everyone else. We're a lot more human than people give us credit for."

Leonardo scooted over on the ground close to him, drawing a knee against his chest. "No one's built to last forever, Don. I don't know why someone would _want_ to live that long."

Michelangelo nodded knowingly. "'Life is but a day: a fragile dew drop on its perilous way from a tree's summit.'"

Raphael's brow furrowed as he stared at his youngest brother like he'd lost it. "What?"

Mike grinned as he looked around the circle of faces. "Becky's mom _loved_ quotes, guys. I've got a hundred more where that came from."

The blue-masked turtle chuckled. "You've got a _very_ good girl, Mikey. And the quote is true…we're not even guaranteed our next breath. Everything can come crashing down in a second, and there may not be anything we can do about it.

"But as discouraging as that seems, I think it's important to appreciate all the beauty _and_ fragility of life as it unfolds in front of us, and the cycle starts over again." Leo gave Raphael and Mike a meaningful glance.

"Anyone who wants to call me fragile is gonna have to spend a few rounds on the mat with me first. We'll see who goes down the fastest," Raphael offered to lighten things up.

"I guess Kat showed you the other day, huh?" Mike snickered without the presence of mind to avoid Raphael's palm before it struck the back of his head.

"I took three out of four," the red-masked turtle said begrudgingly.

"But she—"

"Mike, be quiet while you're still ahead," Donatello advised him.

Leonardo groaned. "I'm starting to understand why Kat avoided sparring with us in the past. Not a _word_ of this in front of her or Brandon, or you'll send her off into exile again. I like the idea of all of us being able to learn from each other."

Mike nodded emphatically. "For sure. Kat taught hmph—"

Donatello smiled as he clapped a hand over Michelangelo's mouth. "I'm doing this for your own good, Mikey."

Raphael smirked at the younger turtles. "You tell him, Donny. Or better yet, I'll show him the next time _we_ go at it."

Leonardo rolled his eyes. "Does it always have to end in violence?"

* * *

><p>Karina's lasagna that night tasted better than Raphael could ever remember. She was fonder of making more intricate dishes, but the past favorite had been called for, and the woman didn't have the heart to deny them. The red-masked turtle stopped short of licking the plate clean to maintain some manners for his wife's sake.<p>

He sighed happily as he drew the bronze-haired woman to his side. "That was some good eats, Chica."

She laughed as his finger traced the back of her neck. "The way to your heart is through your stomach every time."

"Can't a guy compliment his girl?"

"I'd be more impressed if you'd offered to do the dishes," Karina said impishly.

"I'm all over it, Kari."

"No, you're fine," Calley said from across the room. "Jen and I have it under control."

"You girls are so good to us." He gave Karina a wolfish smile.

"We _spoil_ you, Tortuga." Karina gave him a small push.

"Somebody has to," he cracked. "Are you kicking me out then?"

"I just need to finish wrapping up some leftovers."

"How _did_ we end up with leftovers?" Raphael laughed.

"I tripled the original recipe," she replied. "I figured you guys would reheat it tomorrow, or maybe three hours from now."

"Sounds like you know us by now." He grinned.

"Go on and pick out a spot on the couch for us. I'll catch up in a couple of minutes," Karina assured him.

When Raphael entered the Great Room, he was perplexed to find Rebecca searching underneath the furniture. "Did you lose something, Becky?"

"I can't find that cat of yours, Raph." Rebecca glanced over at the open door to the basement. "You don't think she got lost downstairs again, do you?"

"I'll take a look. Tiger doesn't make a habit of going missing when her dinner's involved."

Raphael turned on the light and trotted down the basement steps. He looked around the empty Rec Room curiously. "Tiger?" He clicked his tongue loudly. "You down here?" He made a couple of circuits around the room before noticing that the back door leading to the patio was ajar.

Raphael pulled it open further and peered out into the darkness. He hit the light switch to illuminate the patio, but didn't see anything. _Huh. There's no way she'd run off. Tiger's never tried to escape before._

A soft rustle from nearby made him advance outside to the edge of patio. Raphael had set one foot into the grass when an unexpected shadow brought him up short. He accidentally backpedaled straight into a post from the overhead deck. His surprised gasp was cut off by something sticky smashing into his face, blinding him.

Everything happened so fast that Raphael didn't have time to realize what was going on until _after_ his arms were being yanked to his sides, and loops were binding him down to the post. He growled angrily as weight was applied to his legs to get his feet tied down too.

"When I get my hands on you, Mikey—"

A chuckle interrupted him, but it didn't come from the devious brother he'd expected.

"You're not getting your hands on anyone," Don informed him. "You earned it, and now you're taking your retaliation like a man."

"_Donny!_"

"I said you'd pay. Did you think I was kidding?"

"This is bogus, Don! Why the _shell_ do you have to wait so long to get someone back?"

"Because that's how I roll, Raph," he said matter-of-factly.

Raphael felt the terrycloth material of a towel rubbing his eyes, and blinked so that he could stare down his brother. "You _know_ you're not gonna hold me down for long."

Donatello tapped the leather braided surface of the restraints. "You're not going anywhere until I'm done. I thought we'd revisit an old classic. I needed some help with it, but Mike's always accommodating."

As Raphael's eyes finally had a chance to adjust to the low lighting, he noticed the large pot on the ground behind Donny. "Would this be a good time to mention that the whole 'Cream of Wheat' thing was all Leo's idea?"

"It was Leo?"

"On my honor. You wanna get him? I'll help you. Just let me go."

"Hmm…I don't think so. At least, not for this part," Don said thoughtfully.

Raphael groaned as Donatello hefted the pot without any difficulty. _Looking stronger than I thought. I shouldn't have underestimated him…_The thought trailed off as the first of the soup traveled down his forehead. He clenched his eyes shut and held his breath while Donatello poured the chowder slowly over him.

He wanted to glare at the purple-masked turtle, but he didn't dare open his eyes again during the never-ending stream of chowder. Raphael kept his head down and endured it silently, even though he was fuming. He only tried struggling with the restraints a couple of times before remembering how worthless it was. They were Donatello's design, and _he'd_ been the inspiration in mind.

Raphael released a breath as the towel returned to his face. "You had to go _there_," he said accusingly.

"Don't mess with me, Raph," Donatello said warningly. "You think Mikey's pranks are bad? He acts on the fly. _I_ take the time to think things through. It could have been a lot worse than your 'favorite' chicken chowder."

"All right, I get it!" he snarled. "Lemme _go_!"

"Not yet. Were you telling the truth about the last prank being Leo's plan?"

"You think I'd sell him out if it wasn't true?"

"Then you're getting off a little easier than you were going to," Donatello replied. "It sounds like Leo needs some retaliation of his own."

Raphael grunted in frustration. "Okay, Bro, I'm gonna make you a deal. You let me go _now_, and I'll still help you get Leo back. It ain't fair for me to go through this and he gets _nothing_."

"First promise you're not going to hurt me. Same side?"

The red-masked turtle shook his head. "I won't attack you, Don. We're in this together."

His brother slowly removed the restraints with a sheepish smile.

"You really got me," Raphael admitted. "Tiger's okay, right?"

Donny nodded swiftly. "She's upstairs, probably eating as we speak."

"Good."

Raphael threw both arms around Donny, nearly crushing him against his plastron. Don squirmed to get free from his grasp as the red-masked turtle laughed. He wasn't satisfied to let him go until he'd transferred chowder all over his brother's face.

Raphael released him with another chuckle. "_Now_ we can be on the same side."


	96. Training Up

***Well, we've made it to the end of yet another long journey. It can be a bittersweet feeling to get to this point, but there are enough "distractions" on my mind right now that it doesn't really register this time. Many, many thanks to my beloved betas for all of their help. It's no small task to edit a fic of this size. Thank you, Mikell and Annie. I appreciate both of you so very much.**

**Thank you also to my friends and reviewers, whether you've been with me from the beginning, or just started coming around recently. The highest form of flattery to an author is a well-thought out review, in my humble opinion. You kept me going and posting throughout the last few weeks, during some stints when I honestly didn't feel like continuing. You just don't realize the effect encouragement has...and we ALL need it. **

**My next project is coming, slowly. I'm doing a lot of thinking and strategizing, but I don't have much down on paper yet. Until we meet again...thanks for reading along with me through this entire project, and please enjoy the last chapter. :)**

* * *

><p>Leonardo trotted downstairs after his youngest brother, grinning at the thought of a harmless game of Ninja Tag. <em>It feels like it's been forever since we were all healthy enough to consider something like that. It just hasn't been the same without all four of us. I don't think it ever could be. Still, I have to make sure Don <em>isn't_ pushing himself too hard, or he'll end up no better off._

He was puzzled when he didn't see his other two brothers in the Rec Room. "You said they were waiting for us, Mike."

"They're probably outside already." Michelangelo pointed to the back door and saluted. "Leaders first."

Leonardo spared him a withering smile and exited the back door onto the cool pavement of the patio. He didn't see or hear any sign of his brothers. The stillness was slightly unnerving, and instantly gave him the feeling that something was _off_. He looked over his shoulder just in time to see Mike slam the door from inside.

_Set up! I should have known._

The blue-masked turtle spun back around and came face to face with Raphael. The sight of his younger brother covered in an unidentified substance was so surprising that a chuckle bubbled up before he could stop it.

"I don't know what you're laughing about, Leo," Raph said threateningly. "_Your _medicine is coming up next."

Leonardo backed up a step closer to the door, even though he was certain Mike wasn't going to let him in. "My medicine? I didn't do anything to you!" he protested.

"This is all _your_ fault," Raphael growled. "It was your stupid idea."

"What are you talk—oh." Leonardo caught a glimpse of Donatello's glare and understood. "I'm not the one who attacked you, Donny, just remember that."

"No, but you put him up to it," Don said dryly. "So you've earned retaliation of your own."

"Is there something in the rules that addresses that?"

"There will be when I'm through," Donatello answered.

Leonardo briefly considered running, but there seemed little point. _If it doesn't happen now, they're just going to keep scheming until they pull it off. It's better to bite the bullet. _He raised his hands in resignation. "All right; you've caught me. What do you intend to _do_ with me?"

"Since you like Cream of Wheat so much, I thought I'd make you some of your own," Don said innocently.

"You didn't have to go to any trouble."

Donny shook his head. "You asked for it, Leo."

"Yeah, I know. Don't dish it out if you can't take it. Are you going to keep me in suspense?"

Raphael's arm came around his shoulder as if Leo was going to try to escape, and as he glanced at his red-masked brother, he completely missed Donatello's first missile. The mixture smelled like the cereal, but the texture was so much stickier that he didn't dare trying to open his eyes. _Just as well. Why would I want to _see_ it coming?_

Leonardo silently bore the brunt of what turned into an attack from _two_ fronts. He didn't grimace until he got his first taste of the sickeningly sweet Cream of Wheat, and had the temptation to spit it out. "What's in that stuff?" he complained.

"Molasses," Don replied impishly.

"Could you hurry up before I turn into a statue?"

"Hang on a second, Bro," Raphael instructed.

He stood still as a moistened towel was rubbed over his face. Special care was taken around his eyes, and Leonardo finally felt safe to open them. He tried to shake off the excess cereal from his shoulders, but the molasses wasn't allowing much to escape.

"That is _disgusting_," he informed his brothers.

"Then we're on the same page," Donny said evenly.

"Yes. No more Cream of Wheat. Ever." Leonardo shook his head. "You're finished, right?"

Raphael laughed. "Do you believe he was gonna use all this stuff on _me_?"

"Good thing you managed to turn him around on me," Leo said sarcastically.

"I believe in giving credit where it's due, Bro." Raphael smirked. "Now I get to be satisfied, _and_ I'm using the downstairs bathroom first." He shot around Leonardo and bolted inside the house.

Leonardo groaned as the uncomfortably sticky sensation rolled over his nerves and gazed at Donatello. "It isn't safe to let you stew, is it?"

"Sometimes you have to make a point."

"Got it, Don." He was extremely close to throwing his arms around his younger brother, but decided to spare him from another attack of the cereal that he hated so much. _It _was_ retaliation after all. I brought this upon myself._

When Mike wandered outside, however, he fixed the orange-masked turtle with a stern look.

"Ninja Tag, huh?" Leo challenged him.

"I had to say something to get you down here, Bro. If you feel like chasing me around, I'm still good to go."

Leo's hand snapped out to capture the youngest turtle by the wrist. "I don't want you to run. Stay here and feel the love."

"No - I don't wanna feel it!"

The blue-masked turtle smile as he wrapped both arms around Mike's shoulders. "This is brotherly bonding. You have to play a part in it too."

Michelangelo wasn't giving up easily, but Leonardo wasn't letting go of him either.

"It's only fitting." Leonardo chuckled. "_You're_ the one who loves this stuff so much."

"The reaction," Mike clarified. "I love the _reaction_."

Leo hugged him more tightly with another smile. "Deep down, I think we all do, Mikey. Just some of us more than others."

* * *

><p>The alarm on Leonardo's cell phone went off around 6:00 in the morning, and his first inclination was to pitch the device. <em>Why would it even be set to go off when we're technically still on vacation, <em>he wondered. As he rolled over to glance at his sleeping wife, he suddenly _remembered_ why. _Shunshi. Why did I convince myself that the earlier start would infuse better discipline? I must have been out of my mind._

The ten-year-old had a couple of years of karate already under his belt, but after spending a few intensive sessions with the boy, it was clear to Leonardo that they needed to start from a fresh slate. _He's far too unfocused, and more concerned with throwing tricks than he is with learning to _control_ his body. That has to change, or we can't continue._

The blue-masked turtle started to rise carefully, but he didn't make it out of bed without waking up Calley.

The young woman rubbed one eye sleepily. "Leo? Getting an early start?"

"With Shunshi. He was fifteen minutes late last time, and I figured that being forced to get up earlier might prompt him to be more punctual in the future. He honestly had no excuse for being late; he was only playing a game with Mikey."

Calley gave him a half smile. "So you're getting stricter with him?"

"I have to," Leo said seriously. "If he wants to learn ninjutsu, discipline plays a large role. I don't want to be _too_ hard on him, but at the same time, he can't take this lightly."

She nodded. "I'm sure you're no slave driver, Leo."

"I haven't pushed him too hard yet. I'm trying to remember that he's a little boy too, but our Sensei was much more…rigorous with us at this age than I have been with him."

"That may be true, but you'd been learning ninjutsu for years," Calley remarked. "I bet he'll come around, Leo. Shunshi seems to have the drive."

_That's part of what bothers me about all this_, he thought inwardly. _I have to make sure that Shunshi's in this for the right reasons. Even wanting to be like us isn't the correct motivation._

Leonardo hid his concern with a smile. "He has passion, and that's essential for learning too. I won't tie him down all morning."

"I hope you won't," she returned. "I've been enjoying our walks."

The turtle bent down to meet Calley as she rose off the mattress to kiss him. "I'll see you in a while. Get some more sleep."

* * *

><p>Leonardo shifted backwards on grass that was still wet with dew, easily avoiding the ungainly bokken assault without bothering to block the blows. He'd seen at least a dozen opportunities to disarm the boy or at least throw him off balance, but the turtle had yet to take any of them.<p>

_By this time Sensei would have done something to stop me in my tracks, but I really can't compare our progress with Shun's. He's had a different life than we had, and not entirely in a good way._

Leonardo noticed Shunshi panting and stopped retreating from him. "You're wearing yourself out, aren't you? Do you recall that it takes twice as much energy to swing and miss someone as opposed to _hitting_ them?"

"How can you call it a spar if you only run away?" The boy's frustration couldn't have been more apparent.

"What have you been doing for these last few minutes, Shun?"

"It does not seem that you want to teach me this, Leonardo-san."

Shunshi's deep-set frown reminded him so much of Raphael that Leonardo nearly laughed. "What did I tell you about the method for facing a first-time opponent, Shunshi? You've done nothing but attack ever since we started. What's the magic word I gave you?"

"Intercept?" he asked a little sheepishly.

"To intercept your attacker means you have to let him _do_ something first, Shun. When you go to fight a strange opponent, there are a lot of things you don't know about him. His speed, strength, agility…all of these can catch you off guard.

"That's why it's so dangerous to charge into a battle based only on your own skill. You're not taking your enemy into account. You're not allowing the opportunity for yourself to hone in on his strengths and weaknesses. _Everyone _has a weakness that you can exploit, but it won't do you any good if you don't take the time to consider your opponent."

"What if there is not _time_ to know your enemy?"

"There's no rule that you have to strike first, Shunshi. It's a rare circumstance where you won't have a chance to observe at least a couple of their moves in action. When it comes down to it, the most important thing is to keep your head in the fight."

"But when you are reacting by instinct in a duel, what does that have to do with your mind?"

"It has _everything_ to do with it, Shun. I can't act by instinct effectively if my mind isn't already focused. You need to understand that the stronger adversary doesn't always win, not even in a fair fight. Just look at me. I'm younger and stronger than Takashi was, but he almost beat me. If my artery had been severed completely, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. He almost killed me, because I _gave_ him the opportunity.

"I allowed rage to distract me, and I lost sight of him. In that moment he had the advantage, and he played it well."

"Yes, but you overcame him, because you are the best. All of you are." Shunshi verily glowed with pride.

Leonardo gazed into the boy's earnest dark eyes for a couple of seconds, and motioned to the picnic table near the patio. "Sit down with me, Shunshi-kun."

The boy seemed bewildered, but followed him over to the table.

"Why do you think my brothers and I are the best?" Leonardo asked.

Shunshi's eyes brightened. "Because you _are_. You will fight no matter what. When an enemy attacks, you have the strength to deal with him. You don't let anyone hurt your family. If I can grow up to do that, having the ability to dispatch someone if I need to, I'll be happy forever."

The turtle winced at his choice of words. "I wouldn't say that 'dispatching' someone should make you happy, Shun."

"But if they are attacking you, you said that it was proper to fight back."

"To defend yourselves and others, yes, but not to take joy in it. We should never be glad when we're forced to hurt someone else."

"You were not happy to win your duel with Takashi?"

"I was relieved it was over, but there's a difference, Shun. I wrestled for many days with the thought of facing Takashi, because I had a strong feeling of what it would come down to."

"I don't understand, Leonardo-san. Why should we not be glad when evil falls?"

"It's not wrong to be happy because a threat is removed," Leonardo clarified. "I'm extremely glad that the city and our family are safe, for instance. What I'm trying to point out is that violence is _never_ the 'best' course of action. It was Sun Tzu who said that the supreme art of war is to subdue an enemy _without_ fighting."

"But what if they are forcing you to fight, like the Akiudo did? Why is it a bad thing to defeat them?"

"The act of overcoming the enemy itself isn't bad, Shunshi, but your heart must be guarded. You have to keep your motivation in mind at all times."

The boy gazed at him silently for a long moment. "What was your motivation with the Akiudo?"

"I could have had many. They've destroyed thousands of lives through the years because of their slave trade. They've hurt my friends and family more deeply than I can describe. They invaded our city, and annihilated innocent civilians. With all of these factors in mind, it would have been easy to go out for revenge, but that would have been the wrong reason. We acted in defense of the city, and everyone else that the Akiudo would have hurt if we'd let them."

Shunshi nodded slowly. "But it isn't right to take joy in the defense?"

"It's the physical _act_ of hurting someone else or taking a life that you shouldn't take joy in, Shunshi-kun. When you experience happiness in destroying your enemies, you risk blurring the line that separates you from them."

"But you're nothing like the Akiudo."

"When one is capable of great violence, there's the possibility for abusing it, no matter what side you're on. It's not hard to be drawn off the narrow path, Shun. The way of evil is wider, and easier to access. That's why you have to go _into_ these situations with the correct mindset. All life is precious."

The boy shook his head sharply. "The men who took advantage of my sister, are they precious, Leonardo-san? What of the ones who preyed upon us both?"

The turtle could tell he'd struck a nerve. "Their actions were despicable and without excuse. But yes, Shunshi, their lives still hold value."

"I don't see it like that. I don't think I could."

Leonardo rested both hands on Shunshi's shoulders. "For your own good, its better that you deal with this now. Without forgiveness, there is no room for me to teach you, Shunshi-kun."

"Forgiveness?" he echoed. "How do you forgive for that?"

"It's more for your benefit than theirs, Shun. Lack of forgiveness is a poison that will destroy you from the inside out."

"It's too soon," he said softly. "They _ruined_ things for Hisui. I could do nothing to help her. She thought she was keeping me from their abuse, but I saw."

Leo nodded. "But holding a grudge in your mind is like allowing them to maintain power over you. Is that what you want?"

The boy was quiet again. "Did you forgive the Akiudo for all these things _they_ did?"

The blue-masked turtle took a sharp breath. "We didn't discuss it in so many words as a team before going in, but if we'd struck them with the full force of our anger, they would have _all _been slain. We showed mercy where we could…so…in our own way, I suppose we _did_ forgive them."

"You are going to have to teach me this too, Leonardo-san."

Leonardo drew an arm around the boy's back. "There's no sweeter freedom than to walk with forgiveness and without regret, Shun. Learn this while you're young, and nothing the world throws at you will make a difference. You'll be unshakeable."

"I'll be like all of you," he replied. "That is everything I want, Leonardo-san."

Leo gave him a wry smile. "None of us are perfect, Shunshi-kun. We never will be. But we've come to rely on each other, and it's gotten us through a lot of things no one should have survived in one piece."

Shunshi bit his lip. "When Sayuri-san first took us in, I was worried that it might not last. I didn't know if she only felt sorry for us, or if she would be there for good." He met Leonardo's steady gaze. "So then I come here, and I wonder the same thing."

"Donatello told you that ninjas keep their word, Shun, so that's all you need to know. You're welcome here. It's okay to relax and feel safe."

The boy released a shuddering breath that sounded too large for him as he raised his eyes to look around the backyard. "I want to, Leonardo-san."

The pain in Shunshi's voice could have broken the turtle, and he hesitated before responding. "There are some injuries that are more difficult to recover from than others," Leo said. "It takes time. The important thing is to not give up, on yourself _or _us. We're going to be there for you, Shunshi-kun. With all the questions you'll have to face in this life, that doesn't need to be one of them. We take care of each other, and we always will."


End file.
